Sweet Like Honey
by Lady Shadow
Summary: PostHogwarts. It's Harry's eighteenth birthday, and he's being given a surprise party. They think he thinks they've forgotten, but he doesn't think that at all, because he's forgotten himself. And for a very good reason.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

_He couldn't breathe. It hurt… somewhere, something _hurt_, but he couldn't figure out _where_, it just _hurt._ Pain exploded in his head like the grand finale of the world's biggest firework show. White… hot… pain…_

_He screamed. _

_Darkness._

One: Because the Truth is Bitter Like Chocolate

Harry pulled himself upright with an almost frantic gasp, his eyes wide and searching as he verified his surroundings. Ron was sleeping comfortably in the bed next to his, undisturbed by Harry's rude awakening, and everything else was cast in the hazy gloom of midnight, but was still quite easily definable as the room he shared with his best friend at Grimmauld Place. With a relieved sigh, Harry flopped back onto his bed, pushing the covers away weakly and letting the night air cool the fine sheen of sweat coating his body. He would likely not fall asleep again, and so he contented himself with listening to Ron snore. It wasn't a bad snore really, and, in fact, was almost not a snore at all. Harry usually found the sound comforting enough to lull him back to sleep, but not tonight. The gods themselves could not commend sleep to Harry's tortured eyes, nor would he wish them too.

Had he not spent far too many years at the Dursleys, he might have gotten up and wandered about, perhaps curled up with a book somewhere, but as it was, he _had_ spent too many years at the Dursleys, and so he didn't get up. Of course, he _could_ –perhaps just to spite them, even though they would never learn of it – but in all honesty, he didn't want to leave the relative safety of his bed and the relative comfort of his friend's almost-but-not-quite-snoring.

By the time the sunlight hit their grimy window, Harry's eyes were itching in protest to the rest he had denied him, and he was sure the skin just beneath them had darkened. This darkening wouldn't necessarily have to be much as he was more pale than usual and the slightest discoloration beneath his eyes would likely make it appear as though he hadn't slept in a week.

Within a few moments of the first cool rays of predawn light venturing through their unobstructed window, the morning sun –abhorrently cheery- danced into the room, and mischievously slapped Ron across his upturned face. The redhead first squinted in his sleep and then whimpered, and finally pried his eyes open to glare at the window.

"We've got to remember to close that drapery!" he said reproachfully, though it might have gone over significantly better if he hadn't yawned part way through 'drapery.' Harry summoned a little grin for his friend, who returned it sleepily as he turned his back to the window and curled around a pillow.

"I'm going to go find something to eat," Harry said, a little uncomfortable all the sudden. Ron nodded vaguely and muttered something along the lines of following him down in a few minutes –which would undoubtedly turn into a few hours, if the Sandman had anything whatsoever to say about it- but Harry hadn't really paid enough attention to care. Throwing a robe over his pajamas, Harry slid into his slippers and shot out of the room.

The hallway was still mostly dark, the only light filtering in from a small circular window on the landing to the third floor that had once likely been an owl portal. Now, of course, it was glued shut with grime and the nasty dark vines that clung to the backside of the house. Harry turned away from the little window and headed downstairs, creeping past Mrs. Black with an inordinate amount of care and averting his eyes from the rest of the paintings, some of whom were glaring at him sleepily, as though he had no right to be about so early in the morning.

Harry found the kitchen empty, which he was fine with him, and went about the business of starting tea and making toast. Mrs. Weasley would be down any moment and she would insist on making a large breakfast that could likely feed a small army, but would just barely stretch to cover the household –Fred, George, and Ron being among them. So, Harry contended himself with a piece of buttered toast and hoped it would pass for breakfast.

Toast in one hand, tea in the other, Harry walked quietly across the entrance way and, passing the stairs, nudged the sliding door to the parlor open. The room was small and likely the most comfortable in the house, even if Harry sometimes speculated that the couch wasn't exactly inanimate. The two large windows were covered with heavy, dark maroon draperies and a fire crackled away endlessly in a corner fireplace that kept itself clean and didn't actually appear to _burn_ anything, as the logs never appeared to need replacing and the room stayed pleasantly cool.

Harry sat his cup down on the small end table, which may or may not have shifted so Harry's fingers brushed across its smooth surface, and then sat down on the fluffy blue couch, which may or may not have risen to meet him and then curled so he was more comfortable. At least the furniture was –maybe- more polite than the rest of the old house. Content, Harry picked up the dusty book he'd found in the Black family library, which had gradually warmed up to him enough to stop moving the shelves every time he reached for a book, and thumbed it open to the page he'd left off at.

Within the next few minutes, Harry's face, were it possible, had paled considerably and he was ready to set the book down when the door opened. Almost guiltily, he quickly shut the heavy old book and swiveled a little in his seat to see who had arrived. Sirius stood uncertainly in the doorway, his eyebrows drawn together in worry.

"Hi, Sirius," Harry greeted, bringing forth a smile. Sirius returned it hesitantly and took it as an invitation. Harry gratefully set the book down, face down, on the table beside the couch and moved his feet so his godfather had room to sit.

"Couldn't sleep well?" Sirius asked finally, his eyes locked onto the dark patched Harry knew were there. He knew he couldn't exactly lie with the proof right there, so he shrugged.

"This house…" he said vaguely. Sirius nodded, seeming a little relieved.

"I know. It's getting better though," he added, almost as though he were trying to defend his home, which _he_ generally took every opportunity to decry. Harry smiled a little and turned his eyes to scrutinize his feet when Sirius gave him another of the searching looks he'd been giving Harry for almost a week.

"Are you… okay, and all?" Sirius asked finally. Harry turned back so he was facing his godfather and summoned up him most charming smile.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, well, no reason… you've just seemed a little… well, I suppose it's nothing if you say it's nothing. My over-protective imagination, I'll wager." Sirius sounded happy that he had successfully dispatched his duty as concerned godfather, and Harry was happy he wasn't like Remus and wouldn't pry. The thought of his former professor made Harry wince inwardly; he hadn't seen Remus since the beginning of the last –and consequently, _his_ last- school year, but he was expected home any day. Harry found himself remarkably apprehensive about seeing the older man.

"Say, Harry?"

"Yeah, Sirius?"

"Maybe you and I could go out today, hm? Like… I don't know… to London, or Diagon Alley…or," Sirius shrugged. "Anywhere you want to go." He grinned at Harry hopefully and Harry felt his stomach drop a little.

"Um… yeah, maybe we can do that," he said, feeling a little sick suddenly, but doing his best not to let it show.

"Great!"

"What about this evening?" Harry ventured. "You know, when it's not so crowded?"

"Huh? Oh," Sirius looked suddenly guilty; he knew Harry didn't like to be out in crowds. Since Voldemort's defeat a scant six months ago, he couldn't go anywhere without being mobbed. The Ministry had, thankfully, left him alone for the time being and half the owl population around Grimmauld Place had disappeared, taking with them their various offers for Ministry jobs. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to escape them forever, but the respite was nice.

"Alright," Sirius said cheerfully, regaining lost momentum, "why don't we go to dinner, in a nice _quiet_ little restaurant? I'll make reservations before hand and get a private booth and all." Harry summoned up another smile, though this time his stomach had taken a different kind of drop.

"That'll be nice."

"Great!" Sirius repeated, slapping his knee with one open hand. "It'll be good for you to get out of this old house and get some fresh air." Harry nodded and smiled and Sirius bounded out of the room, already working on where they would go. He absently closed the door behind him and Harry let out a very tiny sigh of relief.

He glanced at the toast and tea on the table, still untouched, and released another sigh, this one in resignation. He poked at the toast, picked it up and took a very small bite. Immediately, his stomach recoiled from the mere _thought_ that something would come hurdling down his throat, and Harry quickly dropped the toast and pulled the offending item off his tongue before it made it too far. Miserable and even a little angry, Harry tossed the soggy bite of bread into the trashcan –which made a noise that sounded suspiciously like chewing. Curious, Harry crept over to it, and saw that though it was a trashcan, there was nothing in it. The row of teeth and obvious tongue might have something to do with that, of course. Harry picked up one of the pieces of toast and let it dangle over the can. Further to Harry's surprise –though by this point, maybe he shouldn't have been so shocked- the can actually _whimpered_. A slow smile spread across his face as he dropped the toast in and then turned away from the gruesome spectacle of the teeth destroying the offending item and then the large purple tongue pushing it back into its throat where it was presumably swallowed. Finished, the thing opened its gaping mouth wider and whined again.

Harry tossed the second piece in and then dumped the tea in as well, which it slurped up greedily and then belched.

"Glad to see you approve," Harry muttered. Seeming disappointed that Harry had nothing else to give it, the trashcan sort of hunched over and made the most pitiful whine Harry had ever heard.

"Sorry," he said softly, rather annoyed with himself to find that he _was_ sorry. Even though the thing was only a trashcan, Harry knew what it was like to be hungry. Sighing, Harry abandoned the book –even going so far as to skirt around it a bit- and took his plate and cup back into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was already there, humming to herself merrily as she set to breakfast.

"'Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted, washing up his dishes.

"Oh, good morning, Harry m'dear!" she returned with her typical morning enthusiasm. "Oh, have you already eaten?" she asked, seeming a little chestfallen. Harry smiled a little.

"I just couldn't wait," he said, almost guilty. She pouted a little, and then pulled him into a hug.

"Well, at least you ate _something_! Heaven _knows_ you haven't been eating nearly enough. I'll be sure to make you a special dinner tonight in celebration of your returned appetite!" Harry's face blanched and he was very happy Mrs. Weasley still had him pressed against her and consequently couldn't see his face.

"Actually," Harry said, affecting another guilty expression, "Sirius wants to take me to dinner tonight… you know, get out of the house and all?" Rather than being crushed, she smiled brilliantly.

"Well! That's even better! You've scarcely been out of the house since school ended! It'll be good for you. Now, you run upstairs and drag Ron out of bed," she ordered, gently pushing him out of the kitchen.

Harry obediently climbed the stairs and again, crept past Mrs. Black with extreme caution. The little circular window at the other end of the hallway was now casting an elongated ellipse of cheery light on the hall and Harry gave it a mistrustful glance as he pushed the door open to the room he shared with the youngest Weasley brother.

Ron had apparently gotten up sometime and shut the draperies, which blocked out most of the light, though the curtains themselves glowed bright gold with the force of the sunlight. Harry shut the door behind him and walked over to his friend's bed.

"Ron?" Snorting, the other boy rolled over, muttering something about nasty little fairies. Harry, stifling a small laugh leaned over his friend's shoulder so he was directly above his ear.

"Ronald Weasley…" he sing-songed in his best approximation of the fairy voices as heard in one of Hagrid's classes. "I'm coming to _get_ you, Ron!" Ron startled awake with a shout and sat bolt upright, his brown eyes opened impossible large. Harry laughed softly and it took Ron a moment to realize what had happened. Glaring, he rounded on his friend and opened his mouth as though to shout at him. Whatever he was about to say died on his tongue at the sight of his friend and Harry squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Your mum told me to wake you up," Harry said, his eyes moving away from the obviously concerned eyes of his friend. "I'm going to go bathe," he announced, taking the excuse to get out of the room and away from his best friend. Ron remained silent as he gathered his things and left the room.

Everyone was thankfully done eating and otherwise occupied when Harry emerged almost an hour later. Mrs. Weasley was cleaning up, Mr. Weasley was off to work, the twins had left for their shop in Diagon alley, Hermione and Ron were off somewhere by themselves, Sirius was making firecalls, and Mrs. Black was still –remarkably- undisturbed, despite the commotion.

Avoiding the kitchen, Harry again sequestered himself in the parlor and, though he really didn't necessarily_ want_ to, picked up the book again and curled up on the couch.

He wasn't disturbed –or found- until twilight had fallen and Sirius was ready for dinner. Harry reluctantly pulled himself out of the parlor and went upstairs to get dressed.

"Where are we going?" he called down the stairs, having reached the landing.

"It's a pretty fancy place," Sirius called back happily and Harry groaned a little, but went for his dress robes. They still had the various awards pinned to them as given by the ministry. Harry was just setting to the arduous task of taking them all off when Sirius appeared in the doorway, his mouth open to speak. Whatever he had planned on saying was diverted so he could ask,

"Why are you taking them off?" Harry started to tell him that he didn't need them on to go to dinner when he noticed that Sirius was wearing the three Order of Merlins he'd been given throughout the course of the war.

"I was just going to straighten this one," Harry explained. "It's a bit crooked, see?"

"Oh, well let me help," Sirius offered. The award wasn't actually crooked, but Sirius made a show of adjusting it this way and that until it rested in the same place it had before. Harry offered his godfather a smile and thanked him for his help.

"Reservations are in ten minutes," Sirius said cheerfully as he bounced out of the room. Harry sighed and started changing. As a finishing touch, he cast a subtle version of the _notice-me-not_ charm on the awards, so anyone who didn't know they were there wouldn't be able to see them. Satisfied, Harry avoided the mirror and tucked his wand up his sleeve.

Once they reached the restaurant, Harry felt a little ashamed for putting the charm on. They arrived in a completely empty room and Harry realized that Sirius must have reserved the entire restaurant. The man had only wanted to go and show his godson the hero off a little, even if it was only to the waiter and the cooks, who peaked out of the kitchen often or came out to wipe tables that were already clean. After a few minutes, Harry surreptitiously took the charm off, not for himself, but because Sirius seemed to think it was important.

The only problem was the fact that the food, though undoubtedly lovely, made Harry want to throw up. He had ordered a half-serving of a Caesar salad and a side of pulled pork with a red wine, but he was having trouble forcing himself to swallow it.

"Is the food okay?" the waiter asked, coming back with his little book to see if they wanted dessert.

"It's lovely," Harry lied successfully. His last two years at school had taught him how to deal with the public, a training he exploited shamelessly to keep everyone –family, friends and strangers alike- happy.

"Would you like dessert?" Harry was going to open his mouth to say no, but Sirius' expression stopped him.

"Perhaps I could fit in a small slice of cheesecake," he decided finally. "Plain please."

"I'll have…" Sirius held up the menu, "this thing," he said happily. 'This thing' being the white chocolate tart on the front cover. He had apparently not even bothered looking inside to see its name. The waiter smiled and took their desert menus and Sirius beamed at Harry and Harry excused himself to take a quick trip to the bathroom. He didn't tuck his head into the toilet like he wanted to, knowing full well that there was a possibility the staff would find out and that could develop into a problem. Instead, he braced his arms against the sink and took several deep breaths to quell his stomach.

"Hello, there. You aren't looking so good; are you quite alright?"

"Silence!" Harry said, applying just the right amount of magic behind his order. Obediently, the mirror was silent. Taking a few more breaths, Harry splashed some water on his face and made sure he was composed before saying,

"Thank you, I'm quite alright." The mirror, confused, stuttered for a minute, not remembering the conversation it had apparently had with this customer.

"Oh, well… alright, then. Good evening to you." Harry gave it a polite farewell and then left the pleasant bathroom. His cheesecake was already sitting on the table and Sirius was cautiously sampling his own dessert.

"That's good!" he declared after a moment. Harry smiled indulgently and retook his seat. The cheesecake was quite rich, but thankfully they had taken his provision of 'small' to heart and the piece was about the width of his pinky finger at its longest point. Harry managed to keep it down alright by taking small bites and using the excuse of chatting with Sirius to hide how slowly he was going. If Sirius noticed his delay-tactics, he didn't say anything, and in fact seemed quite pleased with the extra time they were taking in the restaurant.

"Would you like to try this?" Harry asked when he had just a little left, but his stomach was rolling ominously and he didn't much cherish the thought of pushing it too far. Sirius accepted the plate easily and forked off a bit.

"That is an _exceptional_ cheesecake," he said finally, and a bit too loud, by way of rewarding the staff, who had been so indulgent as to let them in the restaurant after hours. He offered Harry the last of his own dessert with a raised eyebrow, but Harry shook it off.

"I honestly couldn't fit in another bite," he said, softening his refusal with the winning smile that had seen the cover of many magazines over the last few years. Sirius shrugged and grinned as he finished off his tart and then took the last of Harry cheesecake.

"Snooze you loose," he said playfully, making much of licking his fork clean.

"C'mon, you lout! Let's go before Molly has a fit." Sirius winced slightly remembering when they had come back at three in the morning on Harry's seventeenth birthday and Molly had been waiting with wand in hand. She had chased them up the stairs, spouting off relatively harmless curses, heedless of a screaming Mrs. Black, until they'd managed to get into their rooms, at which point she actually locked them in. It was petty, but she _had_ been worried and it was her natural response after raising so many children.

"Maybe we should," Sirius agreed, calling for the check. Harry then had the staff come out and thanked them personally for the meal. He and Sirius signed the bits of paper that were sheepishly offered to them and then they left to a hearty farewell.

When they quietly pushed the door open, they were greeted with muffled voices coming from the direction of the kitchen. Sirius breathed an audible sigh of relief; Molly wouldn't be chasing them down the hall tonight. Harry however, was suddenly very nervous and his stomach was tossing wildly.

"Alright, Harry?" Sirius asked, seeing his expression.

"Yeah… a bit of a head rush is all," Harry mumbled. His first experience with Apparating alone had landed him in an ambush that had nearly cost his life. Since then, he was occasionally overwhelmed by unwarranted panic attacks when Apparating, especially if it was dark when he arrived.

"It's alright, Harry," Sirius said placatingly, making sure to keep from touching his godson; Harry had once hexed him when he made the mistake of trying to comfort him physically. Sirius was in bed for three days after that, with Harry sitting miserably by his bedside.

"I'm alright," Harry reassured him with a smile. "No Death Eaters here." Sirius breathed yet another sigh of relief and tentatively placed a hand on his godfather's shoulder. Harry summoned a smile.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," he said finally, barely holding back another head rush.

"But… Harry, Remus is here! Don't you hear him?" Sirius asked, confused.

"Yes… I'll see him in the morning though."

"Oh, Harry… it was supposed to be a surprise. That's why I was so insistent we go out tonight!" Sirius whined. Harry, caught, could do nothing. He let his shoulders fall in defeat and then brought himself back up with effort; he hated it when Sirius was unhappy, and the man knew it.

"Alright," he said finally.

"Great! Let's go!" Sirius, like a puppy, bounded for the kitchen, Harry following after more slowly. What was he going to do?

The door to the kitchen swung open; everyone was there. Hermione, Ron, all the Weasleys –except Ginny who hadn't survived the war with her mental process intact and was a permanent resident of St. Mungos- his teachers from school, his old dorm mates, even Snape. Above their heads a sign floated that proclaimed, 'Happy Eighteenth Harry!' in bright, cheerful lettering.

"You thought we forgot!" Ron cawed happily, looking very smug at successfully keeping Harry from finding out about their plans. Harry, however, hadn't thought they had forgotten. In fact, Harry himself had forgotten. But at the moment, he didn't really care. Everyone quieted quickly when they realized that Remus and Harry were staring at each other wide-eyed, Harry looking like a hunted doe and Remus quite hostile.

"What's that-" Seamus started to asked, but he was quickly shushed by a long, potion-stained hand, which clamped harshly over his mouth. It wasn't until then that they realized Remus was growling.

"Remus…" Harry whispered plaintively, backing away. The man in question rose slowly out of his seat, his teeth bared and a punctuated growl slipping through his teeth. "Remus… it's just me… it's just Harry," Harry said, finally hitting the wall. Remus was still descending on him.

"Remus!" Sirius barked suddenly, putting himself in between his godson and his best friend. "What's gotten into you, huh?" he asked, but all Remus did was snap at him viciously.

"Sirius no!" Harry shouted, pushing him aside just as Remus leapt. The two collided bodily with the wall and Harry whimpered. Remus, his pupils nearly swallowing his irises, thrust his face up close to Harry's and bared his teeth.

"I yield," Harry whispered. "I yield!" Remus seemed to pause. His eyes narrowing, he put his face against Harry's neck and inhaled deeply before jerking away and growling again, more menacingly.

"No! Don't!" Harry ordered, seeing several wands slowly materializing and aiming at the werewolf. Not even distracted by Harry's shout, the werewolf continued to examine him. "I'm just Harry… whatever else I am, Remus, I'm just Harry," Harry repeated again and again, hoping to get through to his friend while everyone else stood around uncertainly.

Gradually, the growling tapered off, Remus' pupils returned to a normal size and then the man abruptly dropped him.

"When!" he demanded, having apparently just regained the ability to speak.

"A few days ago…maybe a week," Harry confessed, sliding down the wall and burying his face in his hands. With a whimper, Remus dropped bonelessly to the floor in front of the distraught young man.

"Let me see…"

"No!" Harry screamed, suddenly panicked, backing away from him and scrabbling at the wall, attempting to haul himself up.

"HARRY!" Remus shouted, punctuating it with a growl. "Let. Me. See." Whimpering helplessly, Harry stood still while Remus eased his high collar down. The werewolf turned away immediately from the sight.

On Harry's too-pale skin, two swollen puncture holes glared menacingly in the light of his birthday candles.


	2. Chapter 2

Two: Because You Taste Like Heaven

Harry began to cry, first silently and then in great heaving sobs as Remus pulled away and looked at him, stunned.

"Severus?" Remus called finally, helpless. The man rose shakily from where he'd still been holding Seamus' mouth shut despite the fact that the boy's jaw was slack and it was obvious he wasn't in any condition to be speaking. Without a glance at the rest of the room's occupants, Severus picked Harry up and carried him out of the kitchen. For his part, Remus followed him dazedly and Sirius stood, shocked, as were the rest of the guests.

"Oh, my sweet Merlin," Ron muttered finally. As though the words had broken some kind of spell, the room broke out in a cacophony of shouts and questions. When had it happened? Where? Why, for God's sake?

"Settle down!" Dumbledore called, trying to gain control of the mess before Harry's friends turned into a mob and marched up the stairs to demand answers. "I'm sure we'll get an explanation in the morning, though it is obvious for at least the moment that Harry is not well. You will all leave him alone. I think it's best if we stay here for the night; I do not want this getting out to the press." He trained a stern look on the group assembled in the magically enlarged kitchen and then nodded, satisfied that his orders would be followed. "Lets all eat dinner and then get some sleep."

Upstairs, Harry sobbed helplessly into Severus' robes as he was taken into Remus' customary third-floor quarters.

"I'm sorry," he moaned through his tears.

"It's alright, Harry," Remus whispered, having recovered from his shock and squashed down his natural reaction to pounce on the confused boy. Severus sat Harry down on the bed and the boy curled into a tight ball.

"Harry… have you been eating?" Remus pressed finally. Harry nodded slowly; he knew it was dangerous for him to be eating solid foods, but the alternative was… not pleasing.

"Alright, Harry, it's okay. Severus?" The man left without a word and Harry watched him go apprehensively, his eyes darting wildly between Remus and the door, tears dried up almost instantly by his immediate fear of being left alone with Remus.

"It's okay, Harry; I'm not going to hurt you. You just startled me a bit, is all. If you had just warned me… but it doesn't matter," Remus said, seeming to understand Harry's fear and keeping himself well past the point where he could reach out and touch the boy. "You're going to have to take some potions when Severus gets back, and you aren't going to like them, but you'll have to do it anyways. Alright? It's dangerous for you to have decaying food products in your body, and that has probably contributed the most to your illness," Remus explained calmly, letting his quiet voice do the work of getting Harry to relax.

Severus returned shortly with a case of tiny vials. Harry looked at him dubiously, his face still damp with tears.

"Come on," Severus said, not exactly nicely, but not unkindly either. "You'll want to be in the loo for these." Harry, too miserable to be embarrassed, simply nodded and complacently followed Severus out of the room, carefully skirting around the werewolf.

After nearly three hours in the restroom, Harry had to be carried back to bed. He had been thoroughly cleaned out from end to end until there was absolutely nothing in his system. The unfortunate side effect of this particular series of potions was that he had spent the three hours in abject misery and would be too weak to move for several days. Severus, who had been thankfully clinical throughout the process, set him in bed and flipped the heavy comforter over his shaking body. Without a word, he left Harry alone with Remus.

Remus sat against the wall, where he had retreated when Severus had opened the door and surveyed the boy on the bed.

"Don't worry…" Harry said breathlessly, wincing at the feeling of air scraping past his tortured windpipe. "I'm too tired to be afraid of you."

Seemingly satisfied, Remus pulled his chair to the bed and sat down next to him.

"You're going to have to feed; it will help you heal," the werewolf said finally. Harry's eyes showed a flash of fear and disgust, but he really was absolutely worn out and couldn't even summon a grimace.

"No," he pressed out finally.

"Do you think starving yourself is going to help this?" Harry didn't answer because he didn't have to. _Yes._ "Death is a welcome prospect is it?" Remus inquired, almost nastily. Again, Harry didn't have to say anything. "You're weak, Harry Potter," Remus sneered. Harry's eyes flashed angrily. Him, weak? He, who had defeated the dark lord? Twice? He, who had survived the killing curse at age one? He, who had spent his entire childhood locked in a cupboard, maltreated and starved? He, who had survived the fickle affections of the public? Weak!

"Yes," Remus continued, "weak. There are worse things than contracting Vampirism. At least you won't face the pain of monthly transformations. At least you won't face a lifetime in madness, at least- "

Harry stopped him with a helpless whimper; he didn't want to hear the rest of the 'at least' s knowing that Remus was about to bring about every horrible end he could bring to mind. Mary Louise from Texas; a Muggle who had been tortured with _Sadritrae_ until she finally died, screaming in agony until the last, George Mign, a young wizard who had followed Harry around with an adoring, puppy-dog look and had taken a killing curse in defense of a useless building he had been given to watch just to keep him out of Harry's hair. There were so many…

His body convulsed as he tried to weep, but was too dehydrated. Remus softened immediately.

"That was cruel of me," he said, boldly getting out of his chair and sitting on the side of the bed. "I just wanted to make you see that you can't let something like this kill you; not when you've so stubbornly survived all these years." He did not reach out to touch the distraught man, afraid that he would send Harry into fits if he did, but instead waited calmly for Harry to regain control of his dying body.

Finally, pulling in deep, rasping breaths, Harry calmed himself.

"Will you take it now?" Remus asked. That self-disgust returned, but Harry nodded, the motion a slow, jerky movement. Remus sighed in gratitude and went over to the small table in the corner, where a baby bottle, a funnel, and a knife waited. Harry turned his face away. Remus paused and glanced between his hand and the bottle, momentarily unsure… but there was no one else. With a shuddering breath, he put the funnel into the bottle and sliced the base of his thumb open. The sharp knife cut deeper than he had expected and he hissed with pain as the blade hit bone. Gingerly, he withdrew the knife and concentrated on his breathing as he held his hand above the funnel's wide mouth. The blood poured in a steady stream, making a sickening gurgling sound as it filled the vessel.

Remus finally sealed the wound and placed the rubber tip on the bottle before turning around. Harry's eyes had turned a fluorescent neon green, his pupils had dilated to twice what they should have been, and his nose was flaring rhythmically as though seeking a scent that was just strong enough to pick out, but too faint to identify. Remus ignored him for a moment, taking one last second to reconsider… this would be irreversible. Harry whimpered helplessly and Remus capitulated, finally walking over to the bed, where Harry struggled to sit up, still whining. Remus summoned up a small smile and supposed he would be making similar noises if he hadn't eaten in a week.

Moving gingerly, he arranged Harry in his lap, cradling him like he would a small child as he brought the bottle in range of Harry's mouth. Resolve not to eat having dissolved the moment he smelled the blood, Harry latched onto the rubber nipple and began gnawing on it to get the opening wider.

"Slow down!" Remus admonished, pulling the bottle away and getting a growl and a whimper for his efforts. "Slow down," he said firmly waiting until the command had sunken in before bringing the bottle back down. Harry, not wanting it taken away again, heeded Remus' order and slowed down considerably, though he was still sucking at it almost frantically. Harry whined when it was empty.

"No, no more. You have to give your body time to adjust," Remus said, standing up, much to Harry's distress. "Well, if you hadn't been stupid enough to starve yourself for a week, you wouldn't be having this problem. Go to sleep." Harry whimpered again, but Remus firmly replaced the bottle on the table and put a ward around Harry's bed so he couldn't get up. His first taste of blood had awakened the infamous Bloodlust in him, and if it got bad enough, Harry might haul himself out of bed and, weak or not, attack someone. In his state, he could drain every living soul in the house and not be sated.

Downstairs, the house was quiet, everyone but Severus, Albus and himself in an unnatural slumber.

"That was a very wonderful thing you did, Remus," Albus said in his typically gentle voice. Remus shrugged and turned his face away, hoping that the headmaster would get the point that he didn't want to talk about it.

"I've conducted a memory charm on those who were in the house."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Sirius asked specifically not to be affected, as did the Weasleys, and Hermione. I'm worried about Ron though; it seemed to me that he was only asking not to have his memory altered because he thought it was some sort of duty of his, or because he had been prompted."

"What did you do, exactly? To everyone else?"

"Oh, that was a fairly simple matter. I've presented them with two scenarios for them to mull over while unconscious. The first was what actually happened, and the second was a very loud and obnoxious birthday party, as I have no doubt was everyone's intention. If they can cope with the idea that Harry has been Turned, then they will recall the real events come morning, as well as the discussion we all had before they were sent to bed. If not," he shrugged, "they'll wake up a bit drowsy, and with a very impressive headache and doubtlessly contribute it to too much firewhiskey." Remus nodded absently.

"Yes… perhaps that is best."

"I thought you might agree." There was silence for a moment. "Well, I best be getting back to Hogwarts. Minerva should probably be informed of the change in Mr. Potter's status, as should Poppy. Though I think I shall leave it at that."

"Goodnight," Remus offered, bringing forth a shadowed smile.

"Or good morning, you should say," Dumbledore said with a very small smile of his own. Remus glanced at the clock on the mantle: one minute past midnight.

Dumbledore left without another word and Remus was left with Severus, who was contemplatively silent.

"Here," Severus offered finally, gesturing to a tall bottle of faintly green, clear liquid sitting on the table beside him.

"What is it?"

"As a werewolf, your blood regenerates at a rate that is approximately twice as fast as a human's. However, you will need to feed Potter several times daily, especially in the next few days. This will speed the process by which your blood regenerates. Take three doses daily; breakfast, lunch and dinner, and do not skip any meals. Make sure you eat full meals and several snacks. Keep yourself hydrated. Eight hours of sleep, and do not overexert yourself." Remus accepted these instructions with a small incline of his head.

"A funny thing you've done," Severus remarked after silence had fallen again. "A vampire with the blood of a werewolf running through his veins." Severus looked extremely thoughtful for a moment and his dark eyes bored into Remus as though trying to peel away his flesh and see what was inside. Abruptly, he stood.

"I've left all my instructions in the pamphlet beneath the bottle. See that it stays out of harm's way; it's a difficult potion to brew and takes up a great deal of time; considering how much of my time I already spend on you, I would rather not waste any more of it." With this as a farewell, he swept out of the room.

Remus placed his head in his hands and took several deep, shuddering breaths.


	3. Chapter 3

Three: Because You're Sickly Sweet

When Harry woke, his eyes were milky. Immediately terrified, he clawed upwards until he got himself into something like upright and scanned the room helplessly, trying to see. _I'm blind!_ He shrieked mentally, or maybe out loud, he couldn't tell. He could make out a vague impression of light, but no shapes, no figures, no colors; the world was cast in a hazy sheen of bluish white. He cried out wordlessly, rubbing his eyes roughly in an attempt to clear them. His hands came away wet, but his vision, if anything, only got worse.

Seconds later, a door flung open and Harry whipped toward the sound.

"Remus?" he called helplessly. He wasn't exactly sure how he knew it was Remus, but he did.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Remus asked gently, approaching the bed.

"I can't see!" Harry declared, the calm that had momentarily replaced the terror receded and Harry was left again with the fact that he was virtually blind.

"It's okay, calm down," Remus whispered, slowly lowering himself to the bed. "Let me have a look…" Harry, startled by his proximity suddenly had the urge to strike out at him. Not being able to see what Remus was doing was strangely disconcerting.

"I'm going to touch your face," Remus warned. Harry braced himself and moments later a too-warm hand descended on his face. "Oh, you're fine," Remus declared finally, his voice betraying his relief. "It's just a side-effect of the Bloodlust," he explained, standing.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded. "And what do you mean I'm 'fine'! Of course I'm not fine; I. Can't. See!"

"I'm right here, I'm not leaving. You've been in Bloodlust for the past three days," Remus explained.

"What?" Harry didn't remember that. They'd only found out last night.

"Bloodlust; it's a state when your body recognizes it's in mortal peril. At the first taste of blood, your body immediately seeks more in order to stay alive. Unfortunately it doesn't recognize when it's no longer in mortal peril and without the proper precautions it would never have receded. Therefore, you spent the last three days screaming and thrashing at my wards. You were only calm when feeding," Remus said conversationally as though they weren't talking about Harry going absolutely berserk, not to mention _drinking Remus' blood_. "Milky eyes is a common indication that the Bloodlust has passed."

Harry was gratefully that Remus kept talking as he moved around the room, so Harry could follow his progress; he felt extremely vulnerable without his eyes and suddenly understood why snakes were so prone to being quick to attack when shedding. Not being able to see made him very defensive.

"I'm going to sit on the bed," Remus warned a few seconds before the bed dipped. Despite being warned, Harry couldn't help growling in displeasure. His growl was a habit he had picked up from the war. Sometime in his sixth year he'd finally gotten a clue and started dealing with werewolves and any other not-quite-human creature he found himself consorting with on their own terms. Under Remus' bemused tutelage, he'd created a remarkably dominant growl that sent most of the younger wolves and not a few humans off with their tails between their legs. That wasn't to say that his growl hadn't gotten him in trouble. Greybeard had been none too pleased with it.

"Here, drink this."

"What is it?" Harry asked suspiciously. It wasn't blood… he didn't think.

"It's for the eyes. Severus made it himself." After that, Harry drank the potion without another word of protest. Throughout the war, he and Severus had come to an agreement. Harry had not yet been able to decide if they were close. On one hand, he knew Snape like he knew no one in the world, and Severus knew him and things about him that not even Ron and Hermione had knowledge of. Yet, they were comrades. Brothers-in-arms. Shield mates. They didn't socialize or visit each other just for the sake of being near one another. That having been said, Harry trusted Severus more than he trusted Ron. With most things.

"How's…" Harry swallowed hard to push out the vile taste. He no longer gagged on –most- potions, but that didn't mean he'd grown _fond_ of the disgusting taste many left in the back of the throat, sometimes for days. He cleared his throat and tried again. "How is everyone?" _Do they hate me?_ Harry wanted to ask, but somehow, it felt ungracious and self-centered. Remus explained about the charm Dumbledore had cast three nights ago, and rattled off a list of those who had opted out of it.

"Of those who took the charm, only Neville and Blaise remember the actual events."

"Neville and Blaise?" Harry asked incredulously. Blaise was a 'Slytherin turn-coat' as he branded himself, and Neville was not well known for his desire to do or know anything dangerous. That didn't mean that Neville was a coward by any means; Harry would be just as happy to have Neville by his side when the curses started falling as just about anyone else.

"I was shocked as well. In any event, Dumbledore cast another charm on the rest of us. We physically cannot speak of the matter unless with you, or with someone else under the charm and in a secure location. He doesn't want it getting to the press." Harry's cheeks burned and he was rather startled to feel the warmth there. Since a vampire's veins were filled with borrowed blood, things like blushing became meaningless unless they had been feeding regularly. Harry blushed harder when he realized that he must have very nearly drained Remus to have so much blood in his body after starving for a week.

Finally, Harry's eyes cleared and he turned in the bed until he found Remus. He expected to see a ghost of a man, much worse off than he had been after that nearly fatal transformation last October. He was therefore shocked when a very hale and pink Remus greeted him. He blinked at him several times in confusion; his face and hands were a bright pink as though he were sunburned or flushed.

"I… it wasn't your…I mean you didn't… I'm confused," Harry admitted finally, his famous tension headache flaring up behind his right eye. He had learned something like humility during the war; if he didn't understand something, he was quick to admit it and seek to rectify the lapse in understanding.

"About what?" Remus asked, sitting on the side of the bed and then moving over easily to so he was nearly in Harry's lap. The boy blushed yet again and stammered helplessly. "Your fangs should be strong enough by now," Remus explained gently.

"No!" Harry snapped immediately. Drinking it from a bottle was one thing… but _biting_? No. Absolutely not.

"Please? I'm really quite full right now-"

"What do you mean _full_!"

"Severus gave me three daily doses of a blood regeneratory," Remus said. That would explain why Remus looked so healthy and flushed; he had too much blood in his system. Blood regeneratories were given to patients who had lost a lot of blood and to the feeders of vampires. Three doses daily was a bit too much though.

"This could be fatal if I stay in this state too long," Remus tried, tipping his head back against Harry's shoulder, exposing his throat. Throughout Harry's Bloodlust, he had bled himself into a bottle and fed the berserk boy like a baby, so he was a little apprehensive about being _bitten_, but he was feeling so heavy and flushed that he would do just about anything to get rid of the extra weight in a hurry.

"Then go bleed yourself," Harry said, almost harshly.

"Your fangs will never develop properly if you're bottle-fed for the rest of eternity!" Remus snapped.

"Then so be it!" Harry shouted back, pushing at his friend.

"I'll slit my throat right here if I have to," Remus warned, managing to retain his place in Harry's lap despite the weakened boy's best effort.

"I am not about to make you go through what I did. And for god's sake; what sort of effect would that have on _you_?"

"None," Remus responded reasonably. "I'm already immune."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked suspiciously. Remus sighed.

"I've been taking your venom in small doses for past three days, along with a catalyst to help my body adapt, compliments of our semi-resident potions master. I'm quite immune to you."

"Remus…" Harry whimpered. Stubbornly, Remus tipped his head back against Harry's shoulder, and then pulled the new vampire's head down. His instincts flaring, Harry could do nothing but take the offering and tentatively opened his mouth. The bite was clumsy, and though he'd been expecting it, Remus still had to clutch the bedspread in order to keep himself from jerking out of Harry's grasp.

Remus had half been expecting the same frenzied hunger he'd seen before him countless times over the past three days. Quite unexpectedly, Harry gagged and pulled away. The suction having been loss, a great wave of blood welled out of Remus' neck and before he could bring his hand up to at least slow the flow, his chest and a good portion of the bed had been painted red.

Harry, still gagging helplessly, had one hand over his mouth and the other clutching his stomach. Fumbling for his wand, Remus managed to heal himself before he lost any more blood.

"Christ, Harry," Remus managed finally. His neck was hot and throbbed painfully.

"I'm sorry," Harry moaned through his fingers, his eyes screwed shut. "I didn't… I mean… they way it _tastes_; it's so…sweet… and _thick._" Remus blinked at him for a second, and then abruptly began to laugh.

"I suppose you've never actually tasted it before have you?" Harry, still holding his mouth with one hand, shook his head. Remus rose from the bed, and suddenly sickened by all the blood –it was absolutely _every_where- he cast a cleaning charm. Harry whimpered in helpless gratitude. As he had done many times before, Remus pulled out the bottle and slit his wrist, but only allowed it to fill halfway.

"If we do it this way, you'll have to feed more often," Remus warned.

"Do it what way?" Harry asked, mildly suspicious. Remus summoned a bottle of wine from the cellar and filled the bottle up the rest of the way, diluting the thick blood substantially.

"This may mask the taste, and change the texture, so it's a little less offensive," Remus explained. The werewolf regained his seat on the bed and then arranged Harry in his arms as he had done many times before.

"I can… I mean, I can do it myself," Harry said, blushing uncomfortably. Remus didn't answer, and Harry relaxed, finding the position to be remarkably soothing if not a little awkward. He was a bit big to be cradled after all. Remus brought the bottle to his mouth insistently and Harry, with no small amount of trepidation, took in the tip and cautiously allowed the liquid to fill his mouth. It was still thicker than he would have liked, and that bittersweet copper lingered beneath the pungent taste of fermented grapes, but it was much improved and not as hot as it had been, which had been easily as disturbing as the taste and texture.

He managed, after much coaxing, to finish the bottle, and Remus obligingly brought him a small glass of water to wash it down.

"I'm afraid I can't give you much more than that; you're still grossly malnutrition, and the water will dilute what I've already diluted, but you're no longer in danger of death."

"Am I not already dead?" Harry asked, strangely apathetic.

"Perhaps partially so. But no; you still have a life force; you are animated of your own accord. You've still a soul," he added, gently. Harry laughed, his tone perversely bitter where it had been impassive before.

"I still have a soul?" he turned his face away, hiding his guilt and self-loathing. The deeds he had committed during the war still haunted him at night, and likely would be his eternal companions. And an eternity it would be.

Remus cleared his throat after a moment.

"Hermione and Ron would like to see you-"

"No!" Harry interrupted forcefully. "Certainly not."

"Harry, they're your friends and they're worried about you."

"They have more justification for being worried for themselves. I won't see them. Not now; not yet."

"Not ever?" Remus finished after a moment. Harry snorted.

"They should be so lucky. No, I'll be on my feet and about to plague them soon enough without them needing to see me like… like this." He didn't need a mirror to know how he looked. He'd seen enough images of new vampires. Skin white like alabaster, sunken eyes, hallow gazes…no.

"Things will get better," Remus whispered after a moment, gently stroking his head. Despite his mental conviction to move from Remus' touch, that gentle, unwarranted touch, he was unable. He blamed it on physical weakness. They stayed like that for several minutes, Harry's eyes slowly closing as a warm, comfortable sensation spread from his stomach and made his fingers and toes tingle. He stretched luxuriously and actually began to purr, a soft, sweet sound, like a kitten. Had he been a little more aware, he might have been a bit embarrassed, but he was already drifting off to sleep. For his part, Remus smiled softly and carefully moved so Harry was lying on the pillow and not his chest. He was surprised –though maybe he shouldn't have been- that the boy growled and pulled him down so he could nuzzle against his chest. A feeling of dread uncoiled laboriously in his gut and he went dead cold; he had _know_ that it was _probable, _even _extremely likely…_ but there was often an impassable gap between _knowing_ and _understanding_. For a moment he felt so horribly overwhelmed that he couldn't breathe, and then Harry whimpered, stretched his neck and nuzzled his throat, his teeth gently pulling at the underside of his chin. Immediately Remus was calmed, the wolf in him reacting automatically to Harry's display of love and submission. Satisfied that Remus was no longer upset, Harry settled again, sighing as he snuggled against his side.

_A funny thing, indeed,_ Remus thought, recalling Severus' comment. _I've mated myself to a vampire…_He looked down at Harry and sighed in resignation, settling himself in for a nap.

Harry slept the rest of the day, rousing only briefly every few hours to swallow a bottle of diluted blood, Remus slowly decreasing the amount of wine until, by the end of the day, it was only a quarter wine.

"How is he?" Sirius asked slowly, almost reluctantly; he was still in shock, mostly because he hadn't noticed. That wasn't right…he_ had_ noticed, he simply hadn't pressed, hadn't wanted to investigate lest he find something he didn't want to know.

"He's… sleeping," Remus said with a giant sigh, settling slowly into the chair and lifting a cup of steaming tea. He had followed Severus' instructions to the letter, and consequently found himself constantly downing a lot of tea and water in little sips. He had thought this would be sending him constantly to the privy, but surprisingly, had used the restroom only a handful of times since starting the medication. Severus had waved away his concerns with an impatient hand; Remus' body was dealing with the shock of conforming itself to the needs of a vampire, adjusting to the venom and the extra blood as well as releasing into his blood stream the vitamins and chemicals that would keep Harry healthy, and consequently extend Remus life span nearly indefinitely. This would have been hard enough for a normal person, not to mention a werewolf, who, by nature, is not meant to accommodate a vampire.

"You look tired," Sirius said, watching Remus carefully. The werewolf looked up at his friend and gave him a harried smile.

"I've spent all day in bed; I suppose that would tire anyone out." Sirius smiled a little too and then silence fell.

"So… I found the book Harry was reading… about… well, you know…"

"Say it, Sirius," Remus said, his voice suddenly dark and a bit menacing. "There's nothing wrong with what Harry has become; nothing at all."

"Damnitall, there is! Someone did this to him, Remy; he wasn't _born_ this way. It isn't _natural_ for god's sake!"

"Neither was I born to be what I am," Remus said stiffly. It had been nearly two decades since Sirius had said anything like that. Sirius winced and blushed a deep red.

"God, Remy… I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. You know I don't think badly of you. I don't think badly of Harry either… I'm just shocked, you know? It's bloody unfair, after all; all the boy ever wanted was a normal life and that' s been taken from him at every turn… his parents, his childhood, his school years… and now his _humanity_."

"Sirius, Harry may not be _human_ anymore in the strictest sense of the word, but that doesn't mean he's lost his _humanity_. He's not going to turn into a slimy back-alley villain. He's still Harry."

"I know… I know. It'll just take some time getting used to it. But I swear, if I find out who did this to him… so help me…"

"But that's not what he needs right now. He needs you to accept him."

"Of course… I accepted you eventually didn't I?" Remus laughed bitterly; he could recall with vivid clarity, regardless of how many nights he'd spent trying to forget it, the things Sirius had said when he'd found out about Remus' lycanthropy. Some nights he woke up and his face and gut still burned with the pain of Sirius' one night's abuse. But it was the words that had torn him to pieces.

_Freak…_

"Remy?" Remus shook his head to dispel the unpleasant thoughts and looked up at Sirius questioningly. "Right?"  
"Of course. Just try not to beat him to a bloody pulp before coming to the conclusion that he's not that bad."

"And perhaps feeding him to a werewolf would not be productive either," Snape added snappishly, appearing virtually out of nowhere. Sirius growled at him and stood up so quickly that the chair unbalanced and crashed to the floor.

Remus was on his feet and interceding before Sirius could push more than a syllable of Severus' not-so-fondly-bestowed nickname.

"That's enough, Sirius! Grow up! Both of you," he added, tossing Severus a glance to be sure he understood that he was being addressed as well. The haughty Slytherin merely rolled his eyes and stalked forward just in time to catch Remus as his legs gave out and he collapsed.

"Adrenalin rush: sudden motion, heightened pulse, dilated eyes, etcetera; what did I tell you about it?" Severus asked nastily.

"Too much blood…" Remus moaned as it all rushed to his head. All the capillaries in his face, head and neck expanded until everything was red and pulsating. Severus rolled his eyes and summoned a knife from the drawer. Retrieving a series of large containers, he slit Remus' wrist and held it over the wide mouth. Sirius gagged and turned away from the sight and sound of the blood, thick and reddish-black as it poured into the jar.

Remus was pale and shaking by the time Severus finally healed the wound. Four of the large containers had been filled and they glittered darkly in the candlelight. Severus helped the werewolf into the living room and, with Sirius' help, got him onto the couch.

"You're still bottle feeding him," Severus said, turning his chin away and examining his neck. Remus whimpered a bit and pulled his chin out of Severus' hand. The potion's master sighed peevishly.

"Didn't I tell you he needed to break his fangs in? You're babying him and it will only hurt him in the long run!" Remus gave him a tepid glare and moaned again. Severus left and brought back the blood regeneratory. Remus opened his mouth eagerly, even ignoring the taste in favor of the relief it would shortly bring. Severus set him back against the pillows and brought a blanket out.

"Rest for a bit," he ordered, his tone not gentle, but sharp, proving his bedside manner for what it was. Only too happy to comply, Remus quickly and gratefully fell asleep.

"We'll have to bring him up to Potter before the boy wakes up," Snape said briskly as he got up from where he'd been perched on the edge of the couch and stalked out of the room, motioning for Sirius to follow him out. The Animagus still looked pale and sickly, and a bit shaky; it was, Severus supposed, a lot to take in. First the godson turns out to be a vampire, and then the best friend volunteers to feed him. On the other hand, it _was_ poetic justice, if nothing else. Making a soft sound that resembled a snort, the potion master easily scooped the werewolf off the couch and headed for the door. Remus was too long to toss over his shoulder, as he had with the light, too short Harry Potter, but he wasn't difficult to carry. Sirius followed along uncomfortably, obviously feeling how useless he was.

"Is Remus okay?" Hermione asked quietly, appearing in a doorway. Severus passed without bothering to answer, but Sirius seemed relieved by the distraction and followed Hermione into the room she currently had to herself.

Severus deposited the werewolf onto the bed, watching with a detached sort of curiosity as Harry curled around him almost immediately, one leg thrown over his hips possessively and his face tucked passively against the inside of the werewolf's neck. In response, Remus stretched his neck and tugged the smaller man closer to him. Severus continued to watch for a moment, and then stiffly turned and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Four: Because Your Scream is Addictive… 

Remus opened his eyes slowly. He felt muzzy and heavy and almost unbearably warm.

"Hello," Harry greeted softly, his voice like warm smoke. Remus turned his head slightly, almost guiltily to see the teen lying on his side, his head propped up with one hand, the other hand resting gracefully on his hip. His eyes seemed unnaturally green, and appeared to glow softly in the light of a nearby candle. Remus swallowed hard.

"Hello?" he offered, already backing away slowly.

"What's happening, Remus?" Remus froze, his eyes wide and breath suddenly coming fast and hard through a dry throat and mouth.

"W-what?" Harry sighed, and Remus felt heat rushing to his face. He shouldn't have been so suddenly… skittish, but he didn't seem to be able to help it; the roles had been reversed so abruptly. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and tried to regain his equilibrium.

"Are you hungry?" he asked quietly. Harry winced and Remus felt suddenly guilty for purposefully hitting a sore spot, but didn't take his eyes off the younger man. Harry's eyes pulsed brighter, and even though he turned his glowing eyes away, he didn't say no. Remus tipped his head back against the pillows, baring his neck.

"Can't you just…"

"No. Take it this way or-"

"Starve?" Harry offered, one eyebrow raised. Remus glared.

"Fall back into Bloodlust," he corrected, trying to keep his tone firm. Harry winced again, and slowly reached for the other man. His hand shook as he set it on Remus' shoulder and continued to shake as he leaned over and hesitantly set his teeth on the rich pulse point surging warm and fast beneath his trembling lips. Eyes closed, Harry pushed his tongue against the tender skin, and then slowly sunk his teeth into the artery. He pulled back and the blood surged hot and sickly sweet onto his tongue. Harry gagged, and momentarily lost suction, spilling blood over Remus' neck and onto the pillow, but forced himself to set his lips back to the fresh wound. Remus whimpered and stifled a cry, concentrating on the glow of the sun behind the heavy shades to keep his mind off of the sharp pain and strange feeling of his blood being pulled from his veins. They may have stayed like that for a minute or an hour, but Harry finally pulled away, covering the irritated puncture wounds with his hand while Remus reached for his wand and healed himself.

For several moments, they lay shoulder-to-shoulder in uncomfortable silence.

"Remus?" Harry ventured finally. The older man reluctantly turned his head so he could see him. "I'm sorry," Harry nearly breathed, turning his eyes away.

"For?"

"… Letting this happen. Making you into… this." Remus pushed himself up to his elbows and with two chilly fingers, forced the young vampire to look at him.

"You had no choice in being Turned, and for that I'm sorry. It should never be that way… and you didn't _make_ me into anything. I had a choice, and I made it on my own. Don't feel sorry for that." Harry nodded dejectedly, but was obviously not reassured. Remus let out his breath in slow sigh.

"It's not an ideal situation, Harry. If someone had told me a month ago that we would be in this situation, I wouldn't have believed them. But we _are_, and there is some good to come of it."

"What good?" Harry demanded, flinging himself into a sitting position and turning away. He crossed his arms over his chest as though meaning to hold himself together.

"You haven't thought of the benefits of being Turned, Harry. Increased strength, long life, heightened senses, even stronger magical abilities."

"At what price!" Harry demanded, turning abruptly to lock Remus in an intense electric green stare. "Yes, increased strength, yes heightened senses, yes _immortality_, and _yes_ stronger magical abilities. But at what _price_! All my immortal years spent feeding off the vitality of another like some damnable parasite!"

"Do you think I do not benefit from this? Do you think I gain nothing? That I am not dependant on you as your are dependant on me? It's no parasitical relationship Harry, but, if it must be named at all, a symbiotic one. I've gained everything you have by association…"

"We don't know how this is going to react to _your_ condition yet. You may transform this month and rip yourself to shreds for having my taint," Harry shot back.

"All that aside, there is much here that is good," Remus nearly whispered back. "Maybe in time you'll see that."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be… feeling sorry for myself like this. I just can't help but feel… lost."

"It's not the end of the world. You may not have chosen it, and that is still unfair to you, but now that it's happened, you've a whole new world ahead of you." Harry nodded and they lapsed back into silence.

"When are you going to come back down stairs?" Harry shuttered.

"I don't know. I don't think I could right now… I don't think I want to." Remus nodded in understanding.

"I must go eat and take my medicine. I'll be back shortly. Try and sleep." Harry glanced toward the window, which, though covered with a heavy drapery, was still alight with the noon sun. Remus smiled wryly as Harry sighed and fell back onto the bed with a loud 'flop!'

Remus pulled himself up laboriously and stretched, gently coaxing his back to pop several times. Truth be told, despite the alternating heaviness/lightness and slight headache he'd been sporting for the past several days, Remus hadn't felt so spry and just… good since before his own Turning. Although he'd also been concerned, initially, about how a vampire's venom in his veins would affect him once he transformed, he wasn't as worried anymore. Harry's venom seemed to have turned back some kind of clock on his body and he felt as though fifteen years had been lifted off of his shoulders. Hopefully this would reflect in his wolf as well.

Grimmuld place was quiet as Remus descended the stairs. Sirius, Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found, Molly was at the Burrow for the weekend, Arthur was at work, Dumbledore hadn't been seen since the night of Harry's birthday party, and Severus was found sitting quietly at the table.

"Awake?" Severus asked dryly, not looking up from his book.

"Mostly," Remus answered. Still without looking up, Severus pushed the teapot a few inches in Remus' direction. Chuckling softly, Remus took the pot and poured a cup. He lifted it to his lips but was stopped by another scraping motion and looked down just in time to see Severus' long fingers moving away from the sugar pot. Remus raised an eyebrow inquisitively; he'd never taken sugar in his tea. Severus responded by glancing at him with a raised eyebrow of his own. Remus sighed and dumped a spoonful into the cup, but when he went to stir it, was stopped by a cleared throat.

"Have you lost your voice, Severus?" He inquired. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Have you seen Black today, by chance?" Severus asked casually, ignoring the man's question.

"I just woke up," Remus reminded him, adding another spoonful of sugar to his tea and looking at Severus in askance. When Severus nodded slightly, Remus took a cautious sip. It was heavy and sickly sweet, almost making him gag.

"Why?" Remus asked, setting the cup on the table and crossed the kitchen to prepare himself some toast and hot cereal.

"No reason," Severus answered, crossing his legs. Remus' brows drew together and he turned to stare at the other man for a moment, but Severus said nothing more. Remus shook his head and returned to his breakfast preparations, knowing full well that Severus couldn't be coerced into speaking, and if he had something he wanted Remus to know, he would say something.

"How is Potter?" Severus questioned finally.

"Upset, but physically doing much better."

"I see you didn't bleed yourself this morning."

"Did you?" Remus asked, honestly surprised. After healing, the marks were small and Severus hadn't looked up from his book once.

"How did that go?"

"A bit rough, but he managed much better." Severus nodded and once again fell silent.

Remus finished his breakfast, choked down a dose of the blood regeneratory and chased it with another cup of sweetened tea at Severus' silent insistence and then stood.

"I should probably get back up there," he said, stretching again. He felt a bit jittery and wanted to go _do_ something, but was aware that Harry needed him more than he needed the exercise.

"You should check in on Black sometime," Severus commented as Remus turned the corner. Remus paused for a moment, his brows once again drawn together over the brow of his nose. He rolled his eyes expressively and sighed before heading back up the stairs.

Though once again sleeping, Harry was gently coaxed into waking and accepting Remus' throat.

"Getting better?" Remus asked when the awkward silence fell between them again.

"I…" Harry blushed. "I guess so." Tipping his head to one side, Remus regarded Harry's reddened face, which seemed to grow redder under his scrutiny.

"Guess so?" He had just been teasing. Harry had still gagged at first, though seemed more at ease overall. He had not expected that it had gotten any better or worse.

"Yeah…I guess."

"How so?"

"Merlin, Remus! How so? Do you really want to know?" Remus blinked and sat up, nodding.

"I… I guess it's just not… I mean, it's… I don't know… it's just not that bad," Harry stuttered, still blushing.

"Well… I'm glad you're getting used to it." Remus said finally, pulling Harry into a hug. Only then did he realize exactly why it wasn't so bad as the boy jerked, trying to escape him, but Remus nonetheless realized that he was hard.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, pulling his knees up to his chest. "I didn't mean to… I just…"

"It's okay, Harry!" Remus soothed, laughing despite himself.

"It's not. I'm… I'm sick, aren't I?" Harry said, shuttering as he turned his eyes away from the other man.

"Harry, you're not." Remus said, reaching for his hand. Keeping his eyes on Harry's face, he set his hand in his lap. It took barely a second for Harry to register that Remus was half-hard himself.

"You're not," he repeated. Harry raised his eyes slowly to Remus' face.

"What do you think the relationship between a vampire and his mate is? Or a werewolf and his mate is, for that matter?" Harry whimpered and fell back onto the bed.

"Why?" he cried.

A/N: Horribly short, I realize, but I've got more coming, I promise. Sorry it's been so long since my last post, but I'll try to be better. If you're still here, I'd love a review.

Lady Shadow


	5. Chapter 4b

Part B:

"Harry… there is nothing saying that there _must_ be a sexual relationship between us."

"You just said-!"

"Push your tongue against the very far back of the left side of your jaw," Remus commanded gently. Harry did as he was asked, finding a small lump pressed between the far back of his jaw and his back teeth. Almost immediately, a thick fluid began dripping down the underside of his fangs.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, pulling his tongue away from the lump and furiously wiping at his lips where the liquid had spilled.

"That glad secretes a potent aphrodisiac, which you activate automatically when feeding. Its purpose is to make the process a little more… pleasant for both parties, but there is nothing that says we need have sex." Harry, blushing furiously, nodded and turned away from Remus, unable to look him in the eye.

"Harry… it may not have been your intention, but whether you planned it or no, we're going to be together for a very long time. We do not have to have sex, but maybe one day you'll at least be more comfortable with me?"

"I… Remus, this is just so much. I'll try, but… Merlin, this is more than I can comprehend."

"I know. Would you like to be left alone for a while?" Harry nodded, looking at Remus apologetically. Remus smiled at him reassuringly and pulled himself out of the bed. He had some reading he needed to catch up on anyways, mainly a refresher course on vampires.

"Uh… hey, Remus." Remus looked up from one of the heavy tomes he'd found in the study that Harry had been apparently reading to find Sirius in the doorway.

"Hello, Sirius." He smiled thinly at his friend, who entered the room slowly.

"I just wanted to see how you and Harry were doing."

"Alright. It's getting better, but it's a lot to take in at once." Sirius nodded.

"I suppose it would be…"

"Severus was looking for you earlier… I think."

"You think?" Sirius asked, his lips jerked into a distasteful sneer.

"Well, he didn't say he was looking for you, he just asked if I'd seen you yet today. Where have you been, anyways?" Remus asked, glancing at the clock above the mantle, which read four in the afternoon.

"In bed," Sirius said, clearing his throat.

"This late?"

"Yeah, is there a problem with that?" Sirius asked, his tone defensive.

"Well… no… you just usually don't sleep this late, that's all. I didn't mean anything by it." Sirius sighed and sat next to his friend, falling heavily onto the couch.

"I know you didn't, Remus. I'm just so high strung these days. I'm sorry." Remus inclined his head.

"We all are." They fell to silence after that, Remus finally turning back to the old book and Sirius staring into the fireplace, his eyes distant and glazed. After several long minutes with only the sound of Remus carefully turning brittle old pages and the clock's incessant ticking, Sirius cleared his throat, getting Remus' attention once again.

"When do you think I'll be able to see Harry?"

"Well, technically, you could see him now. But I don't know if he's up to visitors just yet. He's still trying to grapple with being Turned and then… well, _us_."

"What is going on between… well, I mean… you and Harry." Remus rolled his eyes.

"Did you pay that little attention in DADA?" Remus asked, giving him an exasperated look.

"Well… it was a long time ago."

"But you must remember _something_! We spent _nine weeks_ on vampires!"

"Did we? I don't…. you know I barely paid enough attention in class to pass. Besides, I had you to help me with my homework and essays," Sirius reasoned.

"What would you have done without me, I wonder?"

"Buckled down and learned something, probably," Sirius answered cheekily.

"Well, why don't you do that now? I'm tired; here's a book."

"What's it about?" Remus looked at him incredulously. "I know it's about vampires!" Sirius said, glaring at his long time friend. "Just… what _specifically _is it about?"

"General information. Read it and find out."

"Remus…?" Remus sighed.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I don't mean to snap at you. Here, give me that." Sirius handed the book back and Remus pulled his feet up on the couch and opened the old tome on his lap. Sirius smiled, remembering all the times he and Remus had been in the same position during their school years. Sirius wasn't stupid, and he could have gotten the material on his own, but he'd always been the social type. He didn't _like_ doing things alone. Remus, on the other hand, had always been the exact opposite. But Sirius was Remus' best friend and so when the boy had cautiously crept up to him on his bed one evening during the first year and tentatively asked if Remus would help him study, the young werewolf could only smile and nod. From that point on, Sirius had, every night, tracked his friend down and sat quietly next to him. Remus would fold his feet under him and Sirius would set his head on Remus' shoulder and the quiet werewolf would quietly read the study material aloud.

But now they weren't children, and so much stood between them. Peter, James, Azkaban, years of loneliness and years of pain, gray hairs and premature lines all crowded on the couch like pale specters. Sirius stayed on his side of the couch and Remus read in a voice that was harder and thinner though not a good deal deeper, and louder, more confident than it had been all those years ago. Stronger than the timid boy Remus had been, but some how… sadder.

"An introduction into the nature of vampires…"

Alone in Remus' third floor room, Harry had curled around the pillow the werewolf had recently deserted. It was still warm and his scent still lingered on the white cotton.

He had never really thought about his preferences. Cho had been an unmitigated disaster and Ginny had been too weird. In his seventh year he'd had no time to think of girls –or boys for that matter- as Voldemort was making a general nuisance of himself and Harry's time had been consumed with extra classes and Order meetings, not to mention the frequent battles with Death Eaters. After the defeat of the Dark Lord barely six months ago, he'd been too exhausted to think of relationships. Well… that wasn't true exactly. He'd thought about _sex_ a lot, but nothing specific. No faces, no definable features, just a warm body.

There was nothing wrong with Remus. Remus was a perfectly attractive man, even if he was a little worse for wear, but everyone was these days, the shadow of Voldemort barely lifted off their shoulders. But Remus was a _man_. Like most boys, he'd thought about other boys, briefly and fleetingly, almost guiltily in the dead of night with all other possible witnesses asleep and quiet. But that was normal, natural, and it didn't _mean_ anything. Because most boys were still with girls, even if they _thought_ about other boys from time to time, or glanced sideways at a teammate in the showers. Right?

With a groan, Harry flopped over on the bed, his arms spread out and legs askew. Why was it always him? While that may have been a little melodramatic, it was unfortunately true. It seemed that at every turn there was something markedly different about Harry Potter, something always happening to Harry Potter that could have happened to _anyone_, but happened to him. Almost as though he was some kind of beacon for things that were strange and different.

He took a deep breath, stopped the potentially destructive chain of thought, and let it out. He had dealt with being famous, had dealt with the cause of his fame, had dealt with being a parslemouth, had dealt with his nemesis, and had dealt with being The-Boy-Who-Lived. He could deal with being The-Boy-Who-Was-A-Vampire-With-A-Male-Werewolf-Mate. That decided, Harry allowed his heavy eyes to close. There would be no telling if he would have the same mentality with said male werewolf in the room, but he would do his best to make a situation he couldn't change bearable.

Severus stopped and stretched his fingers out, slowly popping each knuckle before shaking out his wrists. On his left a blood regeneratory bubbled gently not quite the faint green color it needed to be within the next twenty minutes, and on his right, surrounded by wards was Lupin's wolfsbane potion. Both were extremely delicate, took extensive amounts of effort and time, and had virtually no self-life. Once complete, the blood regeneratory would lose all vitality within 96 hours. Therefore, Severus had to have a new batch within 72 to be sure it would do its job and Potter wouldn't inadvertently drain and kill his mate. The wolfsbane potion had a self life of approximately five hours, and so had to be started, completed, and ingested on a very tight timeline and all three doses had to be taken 24 hours apart with a margin of error of less than twenty minutes. Thus, Severus had managed very little rest since Potter's eighteenth birthday party which Albus Dumbledore had 'suggested' he attend.

Severus sighed, pushed his fingers into the inside corners of his eyes and sighed. The regeneratory was approaching its critical point, and he had another ten minutes before the wolfsbane had to be babied again. Severus added the catalyst with his left hand, and then immediately cast a cooling charm, showering the potion in a light mist of icy crystals. Beneath his watchful eye, the potion turned from an emerald to a faint mint. He summoned a long necked bottle and carefully levitated the regeneratory out of the cauldron in a thin stream that arched into the bottle. He'd barely put the cap and wax seal on the bottle before a soft chime sounded above the cauldron of wolfsbane went off. Containing his frustrated exhaustion, Severus removed the wards and began stirring in a well-practiced rhythm alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise every five strokes.

Both potions in hand, Severus finally stepped into the fireplace, calling for Grimmauld Place. Not even pausing to dust off, Severus stalked out of the room in search of Lupin, who he had seen far too much of in the past days. Instead, he found Black.

"What do _you_ want, _Snivellus_?" Black snapped, quickly closing the book that he'd been staring at.

"I didn't know they made picture books about…" Severus lifted the book marginally off the other man's lap with a single finger. "Vampires." He lifted an eyebrow and Sirius growled at him. "Yes, of course. If you could manage to speak in human for a moment, I'm looking for Lupin."

"What the hell do you want with him?" Severus rolled his eyes expressively and held up a familiar glass bottle with its familiar sickly green liquid. "Oh. He's with Harry," Sirius said, almost bitterly.

"Always a pleasure speaking with you Black. Enjoy your book; try not to get drool on the pages, it's a rare edition," Severus said in parting as he turned on his heel and left the room, heading for the stairs.

"Ah… Ms. Granger. Still abed?" he asked as Hermione stepped out of her room. She blushed bright red and looked away.

"Well… no one's really been… sleeping… well, I mean," she said, growing brighter by the syllable. Severus merely quirked an eyebrow and continued down the hall to the third story staircase. Behind him, Hermione ducked back into her room.

Severus rapped his fingers briefly on the door to Remus' room before simply walking in. In some small part of his mind he understood that Harry may be feeding, but somehow understanding didn't quite survive its meeting with seeing and Severus froze in shock at the sight of Harry Potter laying across Remus Lupin's chest, sucking intently on his throat, both of their eyes closed and hips gently gyrating against each other. It took several long heartbeats for him to shake of his shock and clear his throat.

Harry's eyes opened slowly and peered up at his former professor, his eyes glowing an impossible shade of electric green. Languidly, the boy lifted his lips from his mate's throat, blood pulsing thick and sluggishly down his exposed neck. Remus slowly raised his wand and held it there for several seconds, as though unable to remember the proper spell.

Severus rolled his eyes and, pulling out his own wand, cast a healing charm and then a quick _Scourgify_.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt," Severus drawled. "Honestly. However, it is time for your wolfsbane, Lupin. And I brought another bottle of the regeneratory. Throw away anything you have of the old one."

"Okay… set it there," Lupin drawled, stretching lazily. Severus rolled his eyes again and sat very stiffly and professionally on the edge of the bed.

"Sit up Lupin."

"… Take it later," Remus protested, doing his best to roll over.

"No, you won't take it later. You'll sit up and take it now," Severus corrected sternly, taking him by the shoulder and forcing him to sit up. Sighing petulantly, Remus opened his mouth and allowed the other man to pour the thick liquid down his throat. The gut wrenching taste woke him and he gagged for all of two seconds before recognizing what he was taking and forcing himself to swallow the brew.

"Uh… Thanks, Severus," Remus said, clearing his throat. Severus said nothing, but remained sitting as Remus got up to get a glass of water to wash out the unappetizing taste of the wolfsbane.

"Potter, look at me." Reluctantly, Harry turned so he was facing Severus. Remaining coldly clinical, Severus forced both of his eyes wide open and then pulled back his lips and examined his teeth.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright," Harry muttered, blushing a soft pink.

"I take it you're no longer gagging?" Harry shook his head and Severus nodded. "Good. You should be able to get out of bed tomorrow. No Quidditch matches, however," Severus warned sternly. Harry snorted.

"As if I'll ever be able to do that during the day again."

"Why not?"

"I… sunlight?"

"Yes? Perhaps, Mr. Potter, you should take a page out of your godfather's book and do a bit of studying on vampires. There is only one type of vampire that cannot stand sunlight; a malnourished one. You may be a touch light sensitive for the next few weeks, and you will be easier to burn for a few years, but once everything settles you will actually be more resistant to sunlight than a human because of your rate of healing. If you have any further questions, you happen to be looking at one of the foremost authorities on vampires, and you may seek me out. However, I do still advise you do some research of your own…though we all know had wonderful you are with that, no don't we?" Severus added, giving the younger man a hard stare, his upper lip curling just slightly. Harry glared back, his own upper lip rising to reveal a single sharp fang.

"And," Severus said, standing and walking to the door. "You may wish to be careful with such displays of dominance. There are those who may not appreciate them. Tomorrow we will speak on Houses."

"Houses?" Harry asked hurriedly. Severus paused, the door half open and turned to look at him.

"You'll want to apply for membership to one, of course. Although, I suppose they're more likely to apply to you..." Without further discussion, Severus left the room, closing the door rather sharply behind him.

"Great…" Harry muttered, flopping back on the bed.


	6. Chapter 5

wow... I haven't updated this in nearly a year. ... Well, here's five, six will be out in a few days and hopefully seven will follow along shortly after. As for To Have and Hold and it's sequel: I am rewritting THaH; it's much longer. lol. I'm on Chapter Four and nearly 50 pages. lol. Once I get to 6 or 7 I'll start posting once a week, so look out for that. Since I'm revising, I will not be updating TDduP until the revision is done. Sorry. :( But keep up with me; you'll be pleased with the result, and I will try to update more.

Lady Shadow

Five: Because Alliances Ought be Carefully Made…

AN: Kind of a short/slow chapter, but important to plot development and etc., etc.,

"Harry? I know you're awake, Harry. I need to speak to you." Reluctantly Harry pried his eyes open and looked up at Remus questioningly. Remus was flushed and his eyes were bright and wide.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, sitting up and reaching for his mate. Remus stopped his hands and took a deep, calming breath.

"Tonight is the full moon," Remus said, swallowing hard and closing his eyes for a moment. "And I don't know how I'll react… or how you'll react…you'll have to spend the day with Severus… and the night elsewhere. I'm sure Severus will be able to secure you rooms at Hogwarts if you so desire."

"Remus… are you okay…?" Harry tried, again reaching for the werewolf. Remus caught his wrists and growled, flashing his fangs, his eyes narrowing to brilliant golden slits.

"Severus is waiting for you in the kitchen," he pressed out, releasing Harry's arms and turning away from him.

"Remus…"

"Go!" Startled, Harry actually jumped. He remained in the bed for a moment more, and then slowly got up and dressed.

"If there's anything I can do-" Harry offered, one hand on the door and the other reaching for his wand from the bedside table.

"Please, just go." Harry snatched his wand off the table and quickly left the room, shutting the door harder than he had intended.

In the room, Remus fell to his side and curled into a small ball. Sending his mate away on the day of the full moon had to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, and his entire body ached for it. Helpless, Remus pulled Harry's pillow close to his face and breathed deeply of his mate's scent.

Eyeing the hallway dubiously, Harry carefully crept toward the stairs, avoiding the wide swath of sunlight in the middle of the hall and keeping an eye out for any of Grimmauld Place's other occupants. He made it down both staircases, and successfully avoided the patched sunlight and any of his friends who may have still been in the house, though it appeared to be empty. With the exception of one Severus Snape.

"Uh… Hello, Severus."

"Mr. Potter."

"Remus said you wanted to see me."

"I do not _want_ to see you, as in desire your company. I am, however, seeing you, so, shall we?" Harry blinked at him in confusion, tipping his head slightly to one side and lifting an eyebrow. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Follow me, Potter." Severus pushed himself away from the table and stalked out of the kitchen, heading for the study with its large fireplace. Barely pausing, Severus tossed in a handful of floo powder and called for his personal quarters. Harry stopped and blinked at the fireplace in shock. Severus was taking him to his personal quarters? To his knowledge no one but Severus had been in Severus' quarters. He nearly did not follow, but the sound of an opening door and footsteps above him forced him to reach into the floo pot and call for his former professor's quarters.

"Thank you for wasting my time and energy in keeping this floo path open, Mr. Potter." Snape said acerbically as soon a he stepped through the floo.

"I didn't want to invade your privacy," Harry said in defense of himself.

"Since when do you care about invading my privacy?"

Harry sighed. "I thought we'd gotten over that?"

Severus waved a hand dismissively and abandoned the fireplace in favor of a short sofa set across from the large fireplace with a low wooden coffee table set between the two. Harry took a moment to look around the room and was surprised by the decorations. In school Harry would have expected to see great overbearing pieces of furniture, overstuffed sofas and winged chairs, great big heavy bookcases stuffed with musty old books, parchment and clutter laying everywhere with jars of unknown liquids sitting on shelves and tables, and everything in green, black or silver. After getting to know the man, he may have imagined a more comfortable, 'lived in' type of room, with worn, but neatly kept furniture and scrupulously organized shelves, all work related ingredients kept in a separate room.

However, Severus' living room was surprisingly… modern. The couch was low and white with cherry wood legs, and the table was of the same wood and only slightly taller than the couch. Beneath the two was a red and white rug that was surprisingly tasteful and the shelves that were on the walls contained only a few books, but several nick-knacks. There was no clutter or stuffiness, and while it was not "lived-in" in the musty, worn way Harry might have expected, there was still a sort of hominess about the room.

"Are you going to sit there and stare?" Snape inquired after Harry had spent nearly five minutes simply looking around.

"Sorry," Harry said, blushing. "Uh… what are we doing here?"

"A few days ago I let the various vampire communities know that you were seeking a House. They've all sent replies –imagine that- offering you membership."

"Is that unusual?" Harry asked uncomfortably, sensing some of Severus' disdain.

"Very. _Usually_, you would have had to apply for membership to _them_, not the other way around."

"Oh."

"Sit down, Potter," Snape commanded finally, rolling his eyes. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. During the war, he and Snape had managed a comfortable sort of relationship and were able to sit next to each other in comfortable silence. But that had been in the safe houses and in the trenches, on neutral territory. Now they were in Severus' personal quarters, and his touch was everywhere. The man seemed suddenly huge and Harry couldn't help but feel like a nervous first year once again sitting in this man's class.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter! Sit!" Harry jumped in shock and hissed. Severus rolled his eyes. "I thought we had moved past all this? We may not be "buddies," but I would like to think you no longer think I am going to _bite_ you." Harry looked at him in open mouth shock and then suddenly began to laugh. Shaking his head, he lowed himself to the couch next to his former professor and comrade in arms.

"Now that you are no longer behaving as a hunted rabbit… or cornered cat perhaps, you should read through these. I'm going to go and prepare us a light lunch."

"But… I can't…" Severus gave him a patented raised eyebrow.

"You're getting homework tonight while your mate is otherwise occupied," Severus decided. "It's really very unbecoming that you know nothing of what you are. You can in fact eat, so long as you are not starved, and I have determined that you are sufficiently nourished to ingest solid foods. Now, sit and read these proposals; I will return shortly and offer you counsel if you wish." Harry nodded and pulled the first of the heavy envelopes over.

"You said you were one of the foremost authorities on vampires?" Harry called after reading through the first two. They were letters of introduction, tracing back the lineage of the House and listing names of "notable" persons who belonged to the House. Both were signed with a flourish and sealed with heavy wax by the head of the House.

"Yes I did."

"Do you know anything about these Houses? It seems from here that one is just as good as the other with the exception of a few hundred years or so…" Severus could be heard laughing from the kitchen and Harry stopped reading and tipped his head over the back of the couch.

"A few hundred years is the only difference?" He came out of the kitchen carrying a platter with sandwiches and crisps. "A few hundred years is a very big difference, Mr. Potter. Believe me when I say that you'll want a prominent and notable House; it's better protection." He set the platter down and went back into the kitchen.

"Drink this," he said, lowering a goblet in front of Harry's face. Harry took the goblet without question and brought it to his lips. He stopped at the first scent of blood.

"Yours?" he asked carefully, lowering it slightly. Severus laughed again, this time more condescendingly.

"Can you not even differentiate your mate's scent from someone else's?" Harry looked at him quizzically. "I had Lupin store a good amount for just such an occasion as this."

"Me being in your living room?" Severus rolled his eyes.

"A full moon!"

Harry blushed. "Oh," he whispered, bringing the goblet back up to his lips and draining the cup.

"Now, try a sandwich." Harry picked up one of the finger sandwiches and sat quietly while Severus sorted through the envelopes. "The older the house, the stronger its Head, the stronger its members. For example, this is the House Alexi; it was formed a little over two hundred years ago. It's Head, Morton Alexi was turned at age sixty-five, and the House has forty-two members, all in the British Isles. This is the second youngest House in the world, the youngest being a House in America, which is only sixty years old. That would be… ah, here it is, the House Brambach. Though young, Brambach boasts nearly two thousand members… but that's America for you. All young and afraid to die. They're mostly teenagers, gang members, that sort of thing. They're not so much one House as a lose collaboration of smaller Houses." Severus set the two envelopes aside and looked at Harry expectantly. Harry, however, was devouring his sixth finger sandwich and had his mouth full. He covered his mouth and swallowed hard, offering Severus a small, almost embarrassed smile.

"You'll find that eating will actually be an important part in controlling your thirst. Is there anything you would like to know about any of these in particular?"

"Do you have any suggestions? I mean… you know so much about them…"

"It is ultimately your choice, and I will not suggest any one House, but I can help you weed out some that would most definitely not be in your best interest." Harry nodded and snatched another sandwich from the plate. "Now, the House Su is one of the world's oldest houses, and consequently largest. However, it is also composed almost entirely of Chinese. And the Japanese House Lee is much the same. They are very respectable Houses, and you would benefit from their teachings. They are two of the more disciplined Houses in the vampire community and you would achieve the anonymity you've been seeking for the first few hundred years, as you would be secluded in a monastery while training."

"Uh… maybe not."

"No?"

"Well… Now that I'm…well… not going to die… I would like to spend as much time as possible with my friends who… are."

"That's understandable. Though you should take into consideration that, while it will be painful, your friends are only going to live another hundred years at most. In your lifetime, that will be a very small increment. Do not sacrifice the rest of eternity for the sake of a hundred years." Harry nodded. It made sense, in a cold, analytical sort of way.

"What's the oldest House?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Ah, that would be…" he rifled through the stack and pulled out a lavender envelope made of heavy papyrus. "This one. This is the original House. It was first known as the House of Ra, though after a major upheaval with the arrival of Rome into Egypt, it was taken over by Alexander Letraetres, and has been known by that name since."

"What happened?"

"Alexander Letraetres was a Roman vampire originally from the Greek House of Zeus, and a general in the Roman army. When Rome invaded Egypt, he challenged the Head of the House of Ra, and won. The House's capital was moved to Rome and then in typical Roman form, began to expand aggressively and is now not only the oldest, but the largest surviving House in the world, with members from all over the globe."

"How many?"

"A lot."

"Oh. How many Houses are there?"

"Well, Houses, hundreds, established, noteworthy Houses? Fifteen."

"Fifteen? What's wrong with the others?" Severus tipped his head slightly backwards and leaned back against the couch, putting his left foot up on his knee.

"All a House needs is a Head. There are no rules of establishment; you don't have to be a certain age, or have a certain number of members. A sixteen year old who was just changed yesterday could start his own House. And recently a lot of new vampires have been doing just that to avoid applying to larger Houses."

"But I thought you said the American House was the youngest?" Severus nodded.

"Technically, it's not. But if you would look on the table, there are fifteen letters. The House Brambach is the youngest House that I actually consider a House… and then only barely. The others are anywhere from one member to few dozen, they're generally a couple of years old, and they also tend not to last. For the most part, the bigger Houses will ignore a little House until it becomes a problem and tries to take over their territory or harass their members. If you would like to read their invitations…"

"No, that's alright. I trust you."

"I do appreciate that. However, I will caution you not to take me on my word. Once again, this decision will affect the rest of your eternity." Harry nodded.

"Tell me about the other Houses," he requested finally, settling in for a long discussion.


	7. Chapter 6

Six: Because there's something to be said about change…

"What's the matter?" Severus asked finally. The boy had been up and down half a dozen times in the last five minutes and was inordinately jittery.

"I don't know…" Harry said faintly, taking his seat again, though his legs began to shake almost immediately and he jumped up again. "It's almost midnight…" he pointed out.

Severus did not look at the clock, but nodded. "Harry, sit down for a second and try to listen to me." Obligingly, Harry took his seat again and took to rocking back and forth while he tried to keep his attention on his former professor. "Remus and I were not sure how you would react to the full moon, or how he would react to you for that matter."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm here," Harry said reasonably, his attention already flitting about the room.

"We were worried that you might… change… in some way."

"Mmhmm…"

"Which is why you're here, underground and well warded."

"Uh-huh…"

"And why I'm going to have to do this." Harry looked at him curiously, his attention momentarily focused on what Severus was saying.

"Do what?" Severus pulled out his wand and whispered the key. With an audible snap, heavy wards sprung up around Harry's chair.

"Severus…" Harry said warningly, his eyes flying about the faintly visible cage.

"I'm sorry, Harry. But we had to take some sort of precaution."

"You should have talked to me!"

"We had our reasons," Severus said calmly, bringing up the secondary wards. "If it's of any consolation to you, your mate was very much against not filling you in."

"Then maybe you should have _listened!_" Harry snapped, both fists landing hard against the ward, sending blue sparks of magic into the space between the two ward walls. Severus remained calmly seated, though his heart jumped in his chest.

Midnight struck loudly and Harry took a choked breath. His eyes went wide and Severus got a brief flash of electric green, and feline slits before Harry began to claw at his face, dark claws tearing at his scalp as his back arched and a terrible scream was ripped from his throat. He fell to the floor and curled into a small ball.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Severus watched his one-time student writhe in agony, painfully aware that he could do nothing to help him, and again wondering if they _should_ have warned him in advance. Nearly twenty minutes passed before Harry was finally still. Severus slowly stood and carefully approached the warded area, keeping a cautious eye on the boy on the floor. If anything, Harry had not changed into a werewolf. Werewolves tended toward a certain disproportionate gangliness, while Harry appeared to have maintained his overall body structure, though from what Severus could see his hair and several shades darker, and skin significantly lighter than it had been.

"Harry?" he tried quietly. Harry's head snapped up so suddenly that it startled Severus, and he took a quick step backwards, his heart pounding in his chest. The boy's features _had_ changed; his cheekbones protruded sharply and his eyes angled upwards, though it was not so much the angle as the electric green of the irises that caught Severus's attention.

"Anything like what you had expected?" Harry asked, his voice somehow softer, but also more dangerous.

Severus shook his head and Harry laughed, his fangs glistening in the firelight. Harry picked himself up and Severus mechanically took in the changes. He was slightly taller, slightly longer in the limbs and torso, and seemed to possess a certain elegant fluidity that reminded him immediately of a snake or large feline.

"These wouldn't have protected you," Harry decided, feline eyes sliding over the wards. "If I had wanted to hurt you…" he added, startling eyes once again locking on Severus. "You can take them down." Severus hesitated and Harry's hand shot out, sliding through the wards as though they were naught but faintly tinted water. As his hand closed around Severus' throat, all the man could think was that his claws were remarkably sharp.

"You can take them down," Harry repeated, releasing the man's throat and stepping back just slightly. Severus brought up his wand and dispelled the wards, bringing a small, mirthless smile to Harry's face.

"You've been hiding from me," he whispered, stepping up close to the other man. Severus found himself holding his breath and heart was beating so fiercely in his chest that he was sure the other man could hear it. Harry laughed quietly, a sound that was all at once disarming and yet somehow frightening…like velvet barely concealing the lines of a blade. He turned away from his former professor and walked calmly to the fireplace.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked hastily, forcing himself to get in between this dangerous creature and his way out.

"Are you going to stop me?" Harry asked, his voice almost playful and eyes glittering. Severus swallowed. Could he stop him? Harry laughed, and pushed him gently aside before tossing in a handful of floo powder and calling for 12 Grimmauld Place. Severus barely hesitated before following.

There was, luckily, no one was in the living room when Harry arrived and he wasn't stopped between the living room and his mate's third story bedroom, though he did hear movement from the room he believed Granger had taken.

Without regards to Severus' or Remus' strong wards, Harry pushed the door open and strode confidently into the room. Kneeling on the floor and staring at his hands in shock and confusion was Remus. He _had_ changed, though, like Harry, not in the manner that was usual or expected. In place of the gangly, terrifying monster that was Remus' wolf, was a new creature. His sunken, electric blue eyes were no real surprise. However, the man's almost human-like features, and humanoid shape most certainly were.

Remus looked up at them, an expression of horrible confusion was spread across his face. Severus' gaze traveled from the man's terrified eyes to his hands. Thick, humanoid fingers topped with solid black claws that curved wickedly at the tip had replaced the gangly, long-fingered almost useless werewolf appendages.

Harry knelt before his mate, who reached forward immediately to touch his face, but caught sight of his hands and pulled them back quickly, whimpering.

"Hush," Harry whispered, pulling the distraught werewolf into his arms. For Harry, the change was less of a shock, because he had no concept of what a werewolf transformation should have been. Remus, on the other hand, had been experiencing the painful, maddening transformations since a very young age and had become accustomed to the wolf, the way he looked, the way he felt, and the way he thought. He had also become accustomed to being an observer when his wolf emerged, and yet now… he had almost full control of his limbs, and wolf, frightened and upset was sitting heavy and close to the surface, was watching as Remus moved the body he'd come to think of as _his_.

"It's alright," he soothed, petting the wolf's coarse hair and scratching his wolf-like ears. Severus could only stare, but his head was running through a thousand questions and theories, all of which jumped to his mouth at once and what came out was a, "Mmmuhhnn…"

Both men turned to look at him and he just stared back in shock. Had _he_ just made that sound? He shut his mouth with an auditable click and tried to sink into the door.

"Something you wanted to ask, Severus?" Harry asked patiently. Remus tipped his head to the side and examined Severus critically, his eyebrows furrowing as though he wanted to say something.

"Can you…speak?" Severus managed finally, not quite able to achieve the level of clinical detachment he'd been attempting. Harry turned to Remus and smiled at him encouragingly.

"Uh…nnh…I…" He finally shook his head in frustration, but Severus was honestly impressed. Just that he was able to _comprehend_ what Severus was asking was an achievement in and of itself.

"Perhaps someday," Harry offered. It did seem very likely to Severus as well that Remus may one day be able to gain complete conscious control of his wolf.

"This is… astounding," Severus said, sliding into the room's lone chair.

"Yes, I'm sure it is. Do you mind?" Harry glanced at the door meaningfully. Severus nodded, stood and walked reluctantly to the door.

"Put the wards back up," Harry requested, turning his attention back to Severus.

The potion's master snorted and muttered, "Not like you can't get through them anyways."

"That may be," Harry said reasonably, still not looking at him, "but I would assume that the rest of Grimmauld Place's current occupants can _not_."

For the first time in recent memory, Severus Snape blushed. What was it about this strange hybrid that upset him so? Obligingly, he slid out of the door and tossed the wards back up. Several long moments afterwards were spent staring at the door in numb amazement, his mind making great leaps and bounds as it flitted from topic to topic, entirely absorbed in the interesting prospect that had been so recently presented.

Thus, he was quite startled when a soft, "Professor?" intruded on his contemplations. He turned sharply, habit schooling his features into a death glare as he bore down on the unfortunate standing behind him. Granger jumped a little, obviously equally startled and backed away.

"Well?" he snapped.

She got herself under control and mustered a bit of a glare. "I just wanted to know what was going on in there!" she snapped, as though _he_ had interrupted _her._

"Absolutely none of your business," he said simply, taking no small pleasure in the fact that he could _still_ inspire that irate annoyance in her by refusing to divulge _knowledge._ She huffed, and opened her mouth to argue, but Severus merely walked away, paying her no more attention than he would a first year. She fumed behind him and finally stomped away. But not without prodding his wards first. He smirked when she let out a startled exclamation of shock when the ward sent an electrical pulse down her wand arm. That hand would be numb and useless for hours.

Oblivious to the small battle of wills taking place out side the door, Harry pulled Remus to his chest and gently stroked his head. Be it the full moon or just the other man's vulnerability or something else entirely indefinable, Harry felt suddenly protective of him. For his part, Remus whimpered and clutched at him almost desperately, his face buried in the side of Harry's neck.

"It's alright," he soothed. Remus responded with a soft noise at the back of his throat that came out somewhere between a whimper and a moan. The sound was unexpectedly arousing and Harry's eyes unfocused as they dilated. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have told himself that it wasn't the time and squashed down his arousal to be pondered later, but he didn't seem to be completely in control of himself and rolled on to his back, taking Remus with him. This, at least, the wolf seemed to understand and the confusion disappeared almost instantly, replaced by lust and a need to dominate, to reassure himself that he still had some control. He bit into Harry's offered throat taking the surrender for what it was and refusing to analyze it. The wolf was aware, distantly, of Remus sitting in the back of his mind watching the events transpiring with something bordering on horror.

The unmistakable scent of vampire was all over Harry and, though used to dealing with vampires by now, the wolf jumped almost capriciously from wanting to rip out the vampire's throat and needing to claim his mate. In the end, the latter won out and, slightly clumsy in his new body, the werewolf tore Harry's clothes off his body in long strips, his claws leaving shallow gashes down his mate's body. After a moment, Harry began to do likewise, tugging insistently at Remus' clothing, his nails digging into his shoulders and biceps.

There was nothing gentle about it, no preparation, no lingering kisses, no soft, teasing touches. They were passion and heat and lust and Harry threw his head back and screamed when Remus tore into him. It hurt, but the pain was dull and overwhelmed by the intense heat ripping through his chest. Remus rocked forward and Harry curled compliantly upwards until his legs were wrapped tightly around the werewolf's hips and Remus could bury his head in his shoulder. Neither remotely coherent, they communicated in grunts and groans, in pushes and pulls. One crushing kiss yielded blood and Harry was pushed immediately over the precipice, screaming his release into the silencing wards. For his part, Remus merely tucked his head back against Harry's neck and thrust harder, the muscles in his shoulders and legs bunching as he _pushed_, the forced of each thrust moving them across the floor. Harry screamed his encouragement, begged to be taken with helpless whines and Remus finally gave into the desire that had been nagging at him increasingly as the days progressed and buried his teeth into Harry's shoulder. The taste of his mate's blood, the almost auditable click of their bond slipping into place sent him over and he threw his head back and howled as he came.

Almost immediately the energy slid out of him like water from a shattered vase and he collapsed. Harry had just the presence of mind to roll so Remus slipped out of him and they ended up face-to-face on the floor. He gave his mate a smug little smile, sighed happily and, snuggling up to him, promptly fell asleep.

It was evening again before Remus finally opened his eyes. The vision before him made him smile and cuddle his mate closer and... he stopped, his eyes flying open. In his arms, Harry was just beginning to stir, his eyebrows drawn together and lips parted. He was pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his lips swollen and bruised and there was dried blood across his cheek and chin. A careful peak at the man's neck revealed an angry red tear where he'd been obviously bitten.

_What have I done?!_ Remus thought miserably, gently sliding away from his mate. Harry was an absolute mess. His clothes were in shreds, and his body was littered with small cuts and long scratches. One particular set of marks ran from the younger man's shoulders to hips on both sides. Running his hands through his hair and pulling ruthlessly on the ends, Remus tried to make himself think. The night before was a blur, but he _did_ remember the wolf easily wresting control and tackling his mate. Or had Harry lain back? Was he a willing participant? Remus paled visibly at the thought that he may have... no; that didn't even bare thinking about at the moment. If he thought about it, he would break down. He gently gathered Harry into his arms and arranged him on the bed, removing what was left of his clothing and trying to get him as comfortable as he could. Realizing he was in no condition to deal with his mate's injuries, Remus threw a robe over the remnants of his own shredded pajamas and broke the wards. Without thought for his own appearance, Remus all but ran down the stairs and exploded into the kitchen. Unfortunately, the kitchen was filled to bursting with people and they all stared at him in stunned shock. Fortunately, Snape was one of those present. He didn't bother to attempt to explain the situation and, thankfully, Severus didn't seem to need it and was out of his seat and out the door before Remus had even managed to get his mouth open.

"Remus?" Sirius grabbed his arm as he tried to leave the kitchen.

"Sirius, I-" Remus gestured towards the door, all but whining with the need to get back up stairs.

"What happened, Remus? Did you hurt Harry?" Sirius tried, his voice holding that note of forced calm that amounted to accusation. Remus' wolf jumped in indignation and he couldn't stop a growl from escaping his throat. How dare he even _think_ Remus would harm his mate?! But he stopped himself. He _had_ harmed his mate. He could only give Sirius a panicked, remorseful look before shaking off his arm and running for the stairs. Sirius followed immediately and, in his haste, Remus didn't even try to stop him from following him into his room. Severus was seated on the bed, his body hiding most of Harry from his godfather's sight. Not to be detoured, Sirius stepped around the bed until he could see his godson. Sirius' face went immediately white with shock and rage and his eyes turned on Remus, jaw and fists both clenched, mind whirling. Remus ignored him in favor of hovering behind Severus while the potions master quickly healed the scratches and cuts on his torso.

"Remus... I... " Near hyperventilating, Sirius finally grabbed his friend by the arm and threw him into the nearest wall. "I _trusted_ you with him!" he snapped finally. Whatever else he'd been about to say, however, was cut off as Snape grabbed him by the neck and tossed him bodily into the hallway, slamming the door shut and the wards up behind him.

"Is he going to be alright?" Remus asked nervously, his eyes darting to the pale figure on the bed.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Are you _that_ dense? Of course he'll be alright!" He turned back to his patient and gently prodded the bite mark that painted the juncture between his neck and shoulder bright red and purple. When Remus appeared in the kitchen, Severus had immediately thought the worse and ran up the stairs expecting to find Harry torn open from neck to groin, or worse. "You've not harmed him any more than one would expect from a delayed mating," he continued and Remus blinked at him in confusion. Severus rolled his eyes. "Sit down. It looks like he's done just about as much damage to you as you've done to him."

Remus complied numbly, eyes again straying to Harry's sleeping form while Severus gently eased his robe off and peeled away the tatters of his pajamas. Remus' own wounds were already healing, and Harry's had probably not healed on their own because of the rough mating and his newly turned status. His body was probably in shock, but he would recover soon enough. Remus was in a different kind of shock and Severus rolled his eyes and forced the man to pay attention long enough to get him and his mate into clean pajama bottoms.

"Lick that," he commanded, putting Remus forcibly into bed and pointing at the swollen mark on Harry's neck. Remus complied mechanically, wrapping his arms around Harry's body and pulling him close. Rolling his eyes and heaving another sigh, Severus let himself out of the room.

As soon as the door was opened, Severus was accosted by a dozen raised and angry voices. He barely had the door shut before he found himself thrust up against it, his feet lifted slightly off the floor.

"You're leaving them in there alone?!" Black demanded, his face no less white and voice no less furious. Severus shrugged him off easily and turned to face the entire group.

"I suggest all of you nosey busybodies return to your dinners. There's nothing going on in there that concerns you." His pronouncement was met with more shouts and Sirius once again threw him against the wall. Growing irate, Severus tucked his fists into Sirius' robe front and pushed off the wall, quickly reversing their positions.

"You're more an idiot than I ever estimated if you think it's a good idea to get between a newly mated werewolf and his 'injured' mate!" Severus hissed. Sirius started to protest again but Severus pulled him forward and knocked him against the wall again, knocking the breath out of him. "They're mated now, you fool! For the rest of his life, Remus will overreact to any small injury Harry receives, be it a paper cut or stubbed toe!"

"That was more than a paper cut, Snape!"

"He's a vampire!" Severus reminded him sharply. "Trust me, Black, he can take far more punishment than one night of rough sex!"

Sirius paled at the mention of sex and Severus gave him a slow, vicious smile. "Do you mean to tell me that Remus _touched_-"

"Don't be an idiot, Black; they're mates!" Severus gave him a disgusted look and dropped him, then turned and pushed through the crowd to get to the stairs.

"He's old enough to be his father!" Sirius pressed, rising to his feet and squaring his shoulders. In an instant Severus was back in front of him, his robes billowing about him like dark clouds.

"Like you're one to talk about age," he hissed darkly, his voice pitched low and dangerous. Sirius paled yet again and Severus smirked. "Trust me, Black, you're not that sly," he said cryptically. This time Sirius said nothing as Severus turned and stormed down the stairs.

"What a git!" Ron offered finally after several moments of uncomfortable silence. There was some awkward agreement and everyone trouped downstairs again.

Harry woke two days later to find a fretting werewolf hovering over him.

"You're awake!" he cried, pulling Harry into an exuberant embrace.

"Remus… Remus! I can't breathe!" he snapped. Remus stilled and pulled away from him immediately and then started to laugh.

"You don't need to," he replied, giving Harry a bright smile. Harry knew that, but, like most vampires, he was accustomed to the action of breathing and so still went through the motions.

"What's got you so jolly this morning?" Harry grouched. He felt over warm and more than a little antsy.

"I'm just so happy you're awake!" Remus exclaimed, cuddling up to him. "Are you hungry?" he asked. Now that it had been pointed out to him, he realized that he was. Starving actually.

"Yeah… actually I am. When was the last time…?

"A few days ago."  
"A few _days?! _What happened?!" Harry tried to sit up, found that he was too sore and weak and crashed back down to the pillow, where he merely glared at his mate.

"Later. Eat first." Remus rolled so Harry was half on top of him and pulled the vampire's head insistently against his throat. Needing no more encouragement than that, Harry quickly sank his fangs into the offered vein. The familiar arousal welled up in him with unfamiliar fervor and at a moan from Remus, Harry sucked harder, his hips jerking forward almost compulsively to rub his erection against Remus' thigh. His hunger sated, Harry lapped impatiently at the puncture wounds until they healed and then turned his mouth immediately onto Remus' lips. Remus returned the passionate kiss without hesitation and in moments they were eagerly pulling off each other's clothing, hands and teeth everywhere all at once, leaving bite marks and finger-shaped bruises in their wakes.

"Please!" Remus gasped, arching his back as Harry's mouth neared, but deftly avoided that area he most wanted attention. He whined in frustration and arched upwards again, but received nothing more than a sharp slap to his inner thigh for all his efforts. Harry nuzzled the angry red handprint that had been raised on his inner thigh and inhaled. If he'd had even a moment to think about what he was doing, he might be thoroughly horrified by his own action, but as it stood, he could feel the strong pulse of Remus' femoral artery against his skin and could smell his mate's unique scent, and the combination of the two seemed to rob him of the ability to think straight.

His fangs had just set against the fast flowing artery when an abrupt, "Potter!" stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked up sideways at the source of the disturbance to find Severus Snape standing at the bedside, white-faced and obviously furious. Harry glared at him, flashing both glistening fangs.

"Snap out of it!" Severus snapped, though had enough presence of mind not to attempt to touch the boy. Harry shook his head to clear it as Snape's command finally cut through the fog. He looked down at Remus in abject horror.

"Oh… Merlin, Remus I'm so sorry!" Harry cried, pulling away from the man sharply. Remus, having been brought out of his own haze by Severus' sharp voice, glared up at the other man.

"What'd you do that for?" He demanded petulantly.

Harry gaped at him. "Because, you _idiot_, Potter was about the break open your femoral artery and then quite probably use the blood as lubricant. And, while that may be great amounts of fun later on, let me remind you that the _both of you_ are still _recovering_!" Severus reminded him. Remus pouted. Harry looked in between them in shocked confusion.

"What is going on here?!" Harry finally demanded.

Ignoring the question, Severus sat on the edge of the bed and put his thumbs on Harry's eyebrows. He pushed up, forcing his lids up.

"How do you feel?"

"Confused!"

"Surprise, surprise. How do you feel physically?"

"Fine, I guess," Harry offered sullenly.

"Fine you guess?" Severus probed infuriatingly.

Harry growled at him. "I feel antsy, and a little warm," Harry admitted, jerking away from him when Snape pushed his chin to the side to examine the mark on his neck. Thanks to a combination of Remus' enthusiastic liking and Harry's own advanced healing, the angry red bite had dwindled to a slightly pink scar against his otherwise flawless porcelain skin.

"I imagine that you've been up here far too long and need to get out of this room. As for the heat… well, now that you've been officially mated, not to mention bitten during a full moon, your body is adjusting to yet another Turning."

"Wait…_what_?!"

Severus rolled his eyes and very slowly said, "Full moon. Werewolf. Sex. Mate. Is that more comprehensible?"

"NO!"

"Then you'll just have to talk to your mate. You also need to draft responses to the Houses, they're getting antsy themselves waiting for your reply. No doubt they are positively rankled that they extended the honor of an invitation and you've not yet responded."

"…alright…"

"Seeing as you appear to be more or less healthy, all things considered, I will leave you two to your… discussion. I do suggest it remain _only_ discussion," he drawled, pinning Remus with a pointed look. The werewolf glared at him.

Once the door was shut, Harry turned to his mate. "Remus?" he asked, his voice tinged just _that much_ with warning.

"What do you remember about the night of the full moon?" he asked finally, his voice colored with reluctance. Harry thought about it; he remembered Remus getting him up and making him leave, entering Snape's private quarters, talking about houses… and then something else… something that seemed _very _important, but that he couldn't seem to be able to grasp it.

"That's okay, if you don't. To this day, I have trouble remembering the first time I changed," Remus said soothingly.

"I… I changed?"

Remus nodded. "Severus and I weren't sure how you would handle the full moon, so we had you warded in the dungeons. You _did_ change, but not into a werewolf… neither of us did, really."

"What do you mean by _that_?"

"Your venom in my veins and my blood in yours seems to have Turned us over again."

"Into what?"

"Some kind of hybrid. For the first time ever, I completely remember almost _everything_ that occurred while I was transformed. Some things are admittedly a little hazy, but I still _remember_. I was present; I had control of the wolf, Harry. It was amazing!"

"And… me?"

"Well… you seemed to be more vampire than wolf, but you still smelled like _kin_, like I did. I think it was that smell that kept the wolf from attacking you; though confused, he still scented wolf on you, and that was enough."

"Remus… I _really_ don't understand what's going on!"

"I don't either, Harry. Severus has been doing some research and as far as he can find nothing like this has ever been attempted before. But it's clear that we're neither wholly werewolf, nor wholly vampire anymore, but something else entirely."

Harry shook his head. He was still unsure of what was going on, but he could get the details from Snape –or, more likely, a book of Snape's- later.

"Now what was he saying about us being fully mated and me being bitten on a full moon?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, but unable to keep his eyes from narrowing. Remus shifted nervously and cleared his throat.

"Harry… I… I'm sorry. I couldn't stop myself…"

"From what, Remus…?"

"You… the wolf…he sensed the incomplete bond…and… Harry you were just _there_ and he was confused and when you pulled him –_me_- back, he just sort of…_I..._"

As Remus uncomfortably relayed the night of their bonding, images flashed before him. Remus' claws down his chest, the strangely _wonderful_ burn they left as they tore through cloth and flesh alike, pulling the werewolf down and clawing _his _clothes off, the feeling of _completeness_ when Remus _finally_ entered him, the taste of his mate's blood on his tongue, his vision going white as the world exploded, the feel of teeth on his neck, and a wonderful sense of _belonging,_ of…

"Love," he finished allowed.

Remus stopped talk abruptly and looked at him in bemused shock. "What?"

"I remember," Harry said, eyes wide with awe. "We mated… and you bit me."

"Harry, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, don't be! I can't explain it, but… Remus… I'm so happy." He smiled brightly and all but threw himself at that stunned werewolf. Remus wrapped his arms around him automatically as his wolf howled in triumph.

"You're… you're not mad?"

"No! I thought I would be, or _should _be, but all I can think is 'mate' and 'mine' and I couldn't be happier. Is that strange?"

Remus smiled at him and held him tighter.

"Not at all, Harry. Not at all."


	8. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**: Because First Impressions are Made Only Once

Harry took a deep breath and looked up at Remus once more, his eyes pleading. Remus gave him an encouraging smile and leaned down to kiss him gently.

"You'll be fine."

"I… Remus, what if they hate me?" Harry voiced finally. Despite his best attempts to the contrary, Harry felt a fine shudder pass through his body and he leaned against Remus for support.

"Of course they won't hate you. They're your friends and family, Harry. They love you, and they've been extremely worried about you."

"I know… I just…" _I'm worried_.

"It will be fine. You can't stay up stairs for the rest of eternity," Remus reasoned.

"It wouldn't have to be eternity… just another hundred years or so," Harry returned, the slight lift in his voice making it a joke, but his eyes lending it seriousness.

"Everything will be fine, you'll see."

Harry nodded reluctantly, took another deep breath and pushed the door open. Where the hallway had been silent and deserted, the kitchen was clamorous and filled to bursting. It was also filled with sunlight. Harry winced and shied away immediately. Hermione was the first to act. With an almost frantic slash of her wand, the window was covered.

"Harry!" she all but shrieked. "You can't just walk into rooms in the middle of the day without making sure the windows are closed!"

"Sorry, 'Mione," Harry offered. "I'm fine, it's just a little bright," Harry assured her when it looked like she was going to launch into a tirade.

"Harry, you're… you're a… you can't be in the sunlight!" Ron finally snapped. Harry rolled his eyes.

"_Vampire_ and not at the moment, no," Harry retorted. Ron blanched. There was an uncomfortable silence following his announcement and Harry shifted nervously. Remus finally set a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him to a chair. This seemed to be the cue for everyone to continue eating and Harry gave Remus a grateful smile.

"So, Harry dear, how are you feeling?" Molly asked finally. Harry gave her a slight smile, careful not to flash too much teeth.

"I'm okay as okay can be," he answered.

She smiled hesitantly. "Well, that's good." She turned her attention to her food, spearing a piece of sausage with a little more force than necessary. She gave her husband a forced smile and tried to make small talk. Conversation slowly picked up and Hermione set a small bowl of oatmeal in front of him.

"This should be mild enough for your stomach," she told him, handing him a spoon.

"Thanks, 'Mione," Harry said, smiling. The only solid food he'd had since everyone had discovered his secret was a sandwich at Snape's the night of the full moon.

"Oh, Harry dear, should you be eating?" Molly asked, looking at him nervously.

Harry nodded, taking a small bite to prove his point. "As long as I'm not malnourished," he amended.

"Oh, well, that's good. You don't need to…?" she looked at Remus curiously.

"Uh… no. I don't think you would all like to see that, anyways," Harry muttered to his oatmeal.

"No, we really must get used to it. Go right ahead, dear."

"Mrs. Weasley, that's really not-"

"Now, Harry," Mr. Weasley interrupted. "This is going to be a big part of your life from now on, and it's not something we're just going to ignore."

"Mr. Weasley, really-"

"I insist, Harry."

"I'm not hungry," Harry said quickly. "Really… I uh…_fed_ this morning… earlier." Harry coughed, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. To his embarrassment- and slight annoyance- Remus started laughing.

Harry glared at him, his cheeks flushed red. "Traitor," he muttered.

Remus squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I told ya so," he sing-songed. He offered his wrist questioningly. Harry glared at him witheringly and Remus shrugged, withdrawing the offered appendage with a chuckle. Harry took a moment more to glare, but then turned a smile on the assembled Weasleys. He was glad that Remus was right –he didn't quite know what he would have done if the Weasleys had treated him any differently.

"Well, if you're sure."

Harry nodded, took another bite of oatmeal and asked Ron what had happened in the world of Quidditch while he was gone. Normalcy ensued.

HPRL

Harry tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fire and called for Snape's rooms.

"Ah, Potter. To what do I owe the _pleasure_?" he asked caustically.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a prick. Are you available?"

"Would I be talking to you if I weren't?" he inquired mildly.

Harry couldn't help but smile; throughout the war words like "prick" and "brat" had almost become endearments, and had definitely lost any edge. Indeed they were almost friendly greetings these days.

"I've thought about those proposals, and talked them over with Remus."

"Oh?" Harry noticed that Snape's voice was carefully neutral and filed the tone away for later reference.

"I think I would like to meet the House leaders… do you think that could be arranged?"

"Come through, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes, but jerked his head out of the fireplace and pulled out a bigger handful of powder.

"I'm going out!" he called over his shoulder. He waited just long enough for a "be careful!" from Mrs. Weasley and then tossed the handful in and called for Snape's quarters.

"Sit." Snape offered –commanded?- immediately. Harry did so, once again marveling at the _clean_ feeling of Snape's quarters. "I wouldn't suggest it," Snape said finally, looking over the top of his reading glasses at Harry. It was still strange to think of Snape with reading glasses. Harry had once asked him why he didn't get his eyes fixed magically. Snape retorted with the same question and the issue had never been raised again.

"Why not?"

"Houses are very much about loyalty. They will not take kindly to the idea that you are 'shopping' around."

"But I _am_ shopping around," Harry pointed out.

"But you should not rub that in their faces, or you may find an offer rescinded. That offer may be the one you _wanted._" When Harry didn't seem to be getting the point, Severus sighed, put his book down on the coffee table and took his glasses off. "Let us say, for example, that you pay a visit to the House Chu. Let's say you decide to join the House Lee. These two Houses are at a state of constant war. The members of the House Lee use _you_ to taunt members of House Chu; House Chu takes it as a personal affront that you went to their enemy. Now the war has not only been inflamed, but you become the center of it. Or, let us say that you visit House Brambach, but decide on House Alexi. These two houses are at a state of tenuous tolerance. Alexi stays out of Brambach's business and vice versa. Because of you, they _become_ enemies, and you've just started a Trans-Atlantic Vampiric war. Congratulations."

"I haven't done anything yet," Harry snapped defensively.

"But you _will_ if you treat these people like potential employers. A House is _not_ a business organization, not a firm. They're _family_."

_Family…_

"Alright, so no shopping around."

"Good. That doesn't mean that you need to make this decision rashly or that you can't request more information in writing. This is relatively acceptable, but when you meet a House Head, make sure you are ninety-nine percent sure of your choice."

"Why only ninety-nine percent?"

"There is always the possibility that all the facts will tell you a House is perfect for you, but upon meeting the Head, you find the House disagreeable. I am not saying you should chose to stay in a place where you will be unhappy. I'm simply saying that you cannot toy with these people," Snape stressed.

Harry nodded and sighed. "I'm pretty much leaning towards House Letraetres, but I wanted to… you know…make sure that I hadn't overlooked something."

"I would be more than happy to discuss the other Houses more in-depth with you if you desire."

"I… no, that's alright. I think I've had about all the research I can stand."

"Typical."

"Listen, Snape; I'm not like you and Hermione. I can't research something to death or I just end up second-guessing myself and getting more confused. Call me foolhardy, but you study; I'll act."

"Potter, think _very_ carefully about this. Letraetres is nothing if not vicious. This is a large House with a lot of members and a lot of responsibilities. You will be trained hard, and for a very long time not treated well. You will be asked to fight, you will be told to kill. And… you will have to spend a great deal of time and energy defending your mate."

"W-what?"

"Come on, don't be dense. He's a werewolf; there will be animosity. _You_ will have to be his protector; you will have to prove yourself time and again, and _yes_ they will have to _fear_ you, or you might find yourself with a dead or otherwise…broken mate."

"Would I have that same problem in other Houses?"

"In _every_ House you will have that problem. But in a younger house, it will be easier for you to prove that you can keep him. So, it's a matter of what you're willing to do. Letraetres would be a good House for you. But you will have a hard time of it. Alexi would be easier to prove yourself to."

"But it's young."

"Yes. And being young may be taken over tomorrow, or may rise over the course of the next hundred years to topple older Houses."

"I think I need to talk to Remus…"

"Don't make the mistake of thinking that he cannot take care of himself, or that he doesn't know what he will face in a vampire House," Snape warned.

Harry nodded. "I realize that… but this is as much his decision as it is mine. Will you be available later tonight?"

"I have rounds tonight, but I should be back before midnight."

"Alright. I'll see you then?"

Snape nodded and Harry got up and left, chewing on his lower lip as he headed back to Grimmauld Place.

HPRL

In the end it took another two days for Harry to come to a decision. And that decision having been made, Harry stiff felt uneasy.

"You're afraid, Potter," Snape growled, stopping them abruptly before they could mount the steps leading to a set of looming doors.

"Of course I am!" Harry snapped back, his eyes narrowed and fangs flashing reflexively.

"They'll smell it on you!"

"I know that!" He'd dealt with enough vampires during the war that he was well acquainted with the dangers of showing weakness, especially fear.

"Then _stop_!"

Harry took a deep breath, quelled the desire to punch Severus right in the nose and instead let his eyes close. In a matter of seconds his mental barriers were snapped into place and when he opened his eyes, he had locked all his fear and uncertainty behind a wall. Snape tested his barriers, cautiously at first, and then made one sudden, violent thrust. With all the years they had worked together if anyone had any hope of getting through Harry Potter's surprisingly apt barriers it was Severus Snape. He grunted slightly in satisfaction and withdrew his mental fingers. Behind them Remus released a sigh of relief and brought up his own barriers. While not as technically advanced as Harry's and Severus', Remus had spent much of his life subconsciously Occluding, and so felt reasonably safe walking into the massive gothic mansion. Well, as safe as any werewolf could feel waltzing into a den of vampires.

If asked later, Harry would have sworn up and down that the world slowed to an almost crawl as those forbidding doors grated slowly open. Squaring his shoulders, Harry took the lead, Remus following close behind him and Severus brought up the rear. The doors opened into a long entryway, twin staircases wrapping along the sides of the walls and a gigantic crystal chandelier overhead. The walls were lined with benches and chairs and couches were scattered throughout the wide entryway, almost as though it were some kind of living room. Even the stairs sported plushy chairs. Every chair, sofa, stool, and many laps were occupied. Vampires leaned against the banisters, sat on the floor, sprawled on the stairs. For one split second, Harry felt his heart stop; he'd never seen so many of the notoriously dark creatures in one place. Quickly schooling himself, Harry stopped a few feet from the door, mechanically taking in the placement of the nearest potential enemies.

While the hall had been dead silent when the doors opened, they broke out into a cacophony of sound as soon as they closed. Harry automatically spread his legs, sliding into a stance that would cover as much of his mate as his slight stature allowed and growled menacingly at the nearest of Letraetres' members.

"Be silent!" came a sharp snarl over the general din. As quickly as the noise had built, it ceased. Harry glanced up to find a tall man appearing to be about forty, but was probably closer to four thousand, at the top of the stairs. He had sharp eyes and the chiseled body of a Roman god. Surveying Harry critically, the man slowly descended the stairs, lesser vampires moving quickly and elegantly out of his way as he made his descent. They flowed back together behind him like water and Harry was impressed despite himself.

"You bring this _mutt_ into _my _House?" the man asked almost casually, but Harry could practically _feel_ the anger and disgust radiating off of him.

"_You_ invited _me_," Harry reminded him, his voice lowered to a dangerous growl. He was stepping on extremely thin ice and had no doubt that if this man -who was undoubtedly Alexander Letraetres- decided to attack him, Harry wouldn't stand a chance.

"Indeed, we did extend to you the honor of an invitation," Letraetres agreed. "And you repay our kindness by bringing our very enemy into our midst!" His voice rose sharply with every syllable until it was a cold, icy bite and Harry had to forcibly restrain the impulse to wince. Instead he merely growled, his upper lip peeling back slightly to reveal one sharp, almost transparent, canine. "You _are_ impertinent. Do you dare to challenge _me_?" he asked incredulously, honestly taken aback.

"I make no challenge," Harry declared, "but I _will_ defend what is mine."

"What is yours, indeed. What is this mutt to you? A slave?"

"He is my mate!" Harry snapped, shoulders unconsciously tensing.

"Your _mate_?!" Again, the world came to a screeching halt as Harry and Letraetres faced off, fangs bared and eyes daring the other to back down. "Severus, Severus," Letraetres said finally, eyes never leaving Harry. "You've deceived me."

"I've done no such thing," Severus defended stiffly, well aware of his own precarious position.

"Why did you not see fit to inform me of this little... development?"

"You never asked."

The shock of Severus' defiance startled Letraetres out of his staring contest and his eyes shot to Severus. "I would not think that would be necessary! You are to act in the best interest of your House!"

Equally shocked, Harry whirled to face the potions master, who stared back at him calmly.

_You've been hiding from me..._

"Certainly you're not _that_ surprised?" he asked silkily, one eyebrow lifted. Harry felt his jaw drop and a choking laugh slowly worked its way out of his throat and quickly rose to a level of near mania. When he turned back to face Letraetres, he found the man's eyes boring into him and he was much closer than he had been a moment before. Harry had to stop himself from backing up and merely returned the man's stare.

"Anything else you've been _hiding_, Severus?" Harry asked lightly, not turning to look at him. Severus didn't answer, but he could practically feel the man's amusement running down his spine; of course he was hiding something, he was _Severus Snape_.

"Now, Mr. Potter..." Harry tensed as Letraetres took another step closer. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you _and_ your mate... and perhaps even our sneaky little friend here too."

"Because I'm Harry Potter, of course," Harry replied flippantly. He never liked relying on his name, but had learned during the War that his name could be a powerful weapon, and weapons were best employed when _used_. Letraetres stared at him incredulously for a few seconds before one hand shot out and wrapped around Harry's throat. Harry forced himself to remain calm and watched Letraetres impassively while the man made up his mind. Letraetres opened his mouth as though to speak, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a bone-jarring shriek from behind Harry. Eyes wide and immediately working on instinct, Harry jerked out of Letraetres' grasp and whirled to face the fool who dared attack his mate, only to find Remus on his knees, staring at his hands in stunned shock. Harry's mouth dropped open and he rushed forward instantly.

Remus sat in the pale light of a crescent moon, looking around in confusion through the eyes of his hybrid wolf.


End file.
